


Trollhunters: Tales of Derry (prt 1)

by earthkidsareweird



Series: Trollhunters: Tales of Derry [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: 300 Fox Way (Raven Cycle), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh Lives With Her Aunt, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Georgie Denbrough Lives, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by the Raven Cycle, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Protective Richie Tozier, Slow Burn, Trollhunters Arc (Tales of Arcadia)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 47,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthkidsareweird/pseuds/earthkidsareweird
Summary: Richie Tozier's the first human Trollhunter and like everything sucks.
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Trollhunters: Tales of Derry [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624339
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	1. Shit Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie meets Richie, but Eddie's life is a trash fire while Richie is just trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look this just popped into my head and we'll see what happens! But like it's three of my fav things It x Trollhunters x The Raven Cycle. I've um also never done anything like this so pls give me a shout if you're like yo this is cool or ok. Thanks.

# Shit Beginnings

Eddie Kaspbrak can no longer remember the amount of times his mother warned him: _You’ll kill your true love_. Threat though might be a better word choice than a warning. It’s more of a threat to remind him, he’s never getting away from her. 

He lies in bed not ready to face a new world outside. New house also means new floorboards, which means more creaks and more chances of his mom stopping him before he leaves the house. If she weren’t so lazy, she’d homeschool him. He thanks whatever god for her laziness prevents this though, but only for that fact. Downstairs he can already hear the TV, not that many shows are on this early in the morning. He sits up looking at the clock. Maybe if he cared more about school he’d think: _Oh shit, fuck, I’m gonna be late._ But there are greater fears in his world.

Outside there are some kids shouting. He looks out the window to see one guy and one girl fly by on their bicycles. For a split second too long, he watches them. The one kid points off in a different direction challenging them to take some sort of shortcut then they’re off, out of sight. Otherwise, the streets are empty, probably because nobody else in this world is going to be late. He looks down the side of the house wondering if maybe he could make the climb, which is ridiculous. He’d fall, break an arm, or hit his head so hard that everybody would think it’s just a concussion only for him to drop dead at some point in the night.

With one deep sigh, Eddie changes into clothes as fast as possible. He tosses his inhaler into his backpack before some other medication he stole from his mother’s cabinet. Not that she has noticed, probably because he does his best to slip a pill into a separate bottle twice a week. It helps that she has shit eyes. Eddie tucks the bottle into a secret pocket inside his bag before creeping out of his room. So far there are a few creaks he knows to avoid. He’s getting good at this, and will only get better. Practice makes perfect.

Eddie makes it down the stairs without a sound and there’s no shouting from his mother. Perfection. The next big feat is passing the TV room to the door. If he wants food, he’d have to cut through the TV room to the kitchen. Not happening. Eddie takes one step at a time focusing on toes first then heel, toes first then heel because he read somewhere once this is the way to sneak up on some animal when hunting. This is basically the same scenario, he’s just the hunted or so it feels most days. 

Right before Eddie can touch the doorknob, a floorboard screeches under his weight. Opposite of perfection. He wrinkles his nose and pauses. His heart about to explode, which would be unfortunate. Somewhere he read nobody has ever died of a panic attack, but chances are either that’s a lie or he’ll be the first panic attack victim.

“EDDIE! IS THAT YOU!” his mother shouts from the TV room treating him like he’s several miles away. 

Eddie backs up holding tight to his bag. _Don’t vomit, don’t vomit, don’t vomit_ , he tells himself. His head grows fuzzier as his chest hurts way more. Eddie stops and looks at his mother. She’s sitting on a giant chair watching her television set. She has the sort of small glasses that magnify her eyes making him think of bugs and he hates bugs like mosquitos kill more people than any other animal in this world. 

“I’m already late for my first day of school, sorry,” Eddie says.

“You were going to leave without giving me a kiss?”

Eddie walks over to his mother giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sorry.”

“What if you left and died out there? You would’ve left me without saying goodbye? What do you think that would do to me? It’d kill me, Eddie.” His mother shook her head. “We will discuss this later when you get home.”

Eddie backs up ready to head out into the world, he mumbles, “Um, love you, Mom. So bye.”

His mother smiles. “I love you, too.” Eddie is already at the door when she shouts. “You come straight home right away.”

“I will.”

“I don’t want you out there playing with some stranger.”

Eddie groans wanting to say he’s in high school, he doesn’t “play” anymore or something but instead, he leaves it shouting another, “Love you,” even though the words mean nothing, they’re just societal norms. 

Before Eddie can close the door, his mother continues to shout all to remind him over and over and over again, “And Eddie! Keep in mind, you’re going to kill your true love so be careful out there. Don’t go and make us move again.”

Eddie slams the door shut and realizes, he has no idea how the fuck to get to school. It’s like nobody is around to ask for directions, too. He heads off in the direction he watched those other kids go earlier even though they were long gone by that point. He pauses by some street lamp looking at several missing persons signs pasted along it. Some children lost in black and white stare back at him, none who he knows seeing he only moved to town. Rather than feel bad for them, he has some back wishful thought: _Maybe I’ll finally die_.

“Do you need help?” somebody in a car pulls up beside him.

Oh fuck. Eddie looks to see some middle-aged man sitting in the driver’s seat. His hair already graying. This is how children get abducted, thrown into cars by friendly strangers or aggressive ones that pluck people off the street to do who knows what. “No thanks, sir, I’m ok.”

The man continues to wait in his car there. “You look lost.”

“I’m not lost,” replies Eddie. He begins to walk along as the car slowly creeps along after him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_. The houses around him look empty so he can’t shout for help or knock on a door to ask for a phone to call the police. The car paces with him. “No, sir, I’m fine, really.”

The man stops the car and leans over the passenger seat a bit. “The school is that way.” 

He points at a side street that Eddie missed thanks to those missing poster signs. If he’s kidnapped then he really won’t have to go to school or deal with his mother unless ghosts exists and he ends up trapped here for eternity. 

“It’s the fastest walking route. Better hurry up, I’d hate to mark you or any other kid late.” He drives away rolling up his window.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Eddie continues in this same direction he is on because fuck that advice. They shouldn’t hire such creepy teachers. He finds himself walking over a bridge, over an empty canal. He stops to look down spotting those two kids on bikes earlier. The girl is shouting at the boy about they need to get going, they’re so late and so much for a shortcut. The boy though is leaning over a pile of blueish rocks in the middle of the empty canal. He’s poking it all with a stick. His friend starts to leave without him causing him to yell back at her.

“See you later, Trashmouth!” she yells as she rides away leaving the other kid there. He’s holding onto a rock in one hand and a stick in the other.

“Well! Fuck you? I’m adorable and nobody will be mad if I’m late!”

Eddie walks a little faster away from the scene hoping to maybe make it to school before the bell, still the school he has no idea where it is. But the place isn’t too big, sort of. He moved there from New York so comparatively, some post-industrial city has nothing on him--in theory. 

Before Eddie walks off the bridge, he does look down to see this “Trash Kid” is standing there still holding onto the rock staring at it before tucking it into his back pocket. He pauses when he realizes Eddie is staring at him. The moment they’re about to lock eyes, Eddie runs off. Nope, nope, no more distractions because it sure is time for school. The nervousness builds, twitching throughout his body though. If he walks faster, maybe it’ll be all done and gone by the time he reaches school.

Except for Trash Kid is actually riding beside him on his bike and he does look like trash in some wrinkled Hawaiin shirt that doesn’t match his plain gray shirt underneath. “Hey, New Kid. Need a lift?”

Eddie for no reason at all whips his inhaler out of his bag and sucks in deeply as he stares at the kid. His black glasses are too big for his face. The classic Hollywood nerd type. Eddie stares at him while his head still buzzes louder and louder.

“New Kid, don’t take this the wrong way but you look like shit right now. Are you like dying from cancer or something?”

“I have to go,” Eddie tells him and attempts to scurry away but the Trash Kid follows him.

“Just hop on the back.”

Eddie gawks at him. “What? _What_?! Just hop on the back of your-your bike? I don’t have a helmet, do you know what happens to people who ride bikes and don’t wear helmets?”

__

“They die?” replies Trash Kid. “Again, no offense, but if you die on my bike, I bet I get all A’s so I wouldn’t even be mad.”

__

“You’re not funny.”

__

“Fuck you, I’m hilarious.”

__

Eddie looks around. That car is long gone at least and he spots some more of those missing persons signs, it’s hard to tell if they’re the same. Eddie sighs and hops onto the back of the kid’s bike. “Um, I’m Eddie.”

__

“Richie Tozier.”

__

“Um, thanks.” Eddie hangs on tight to this kid as he rides off, not too fast as if he’s pacing himself for the frantic sake of Eddie. If he does, it never comes up. They don’t speak the entire way. Conversation is done. The second Eddie is at the school, he hopes they won’t cross paths. It’s already awkward enough that he is hugging some random Trash Kid after meeting him for five whole seconds. Rumors travel too quick, and for somebody who never leaves the house, his mother happens to know everything.

__

Somewhere in his mind, he hears his mother’s voice as per usual. Well, almost ‘per usual’ because at any other time she’d be yelling at him for being so, so, so stupid. Riding a bike like that? That’s how kids die. They die all the time on bikes like that. 1 in 3 kids would be her statistic, it’s always the same. 1 in 3 kids die of asthma before they’re 16, but jokes on her, he’s already 16. No, no, it’s none of that but her stupid, stupid, stupid ass warning: _And Eddie! Keep in mind, you’re going to kill your true love so be careful out there. Don’t go and make us move again_.

__

The second Eddie spots the school right when the bell rings and Richie starts to curse. Most of the kids are inside, some are stumbling to the doors. Eddie closes his eyes, inhales deeply and reminds himself the other usual.

__

Do. Not. Make. Friends. Friends meant they’d move again and again and again because his mother said it was for the best, the only way to protect such a cursed child.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my very, very terrible list of who is how from Trollhunters to their It character here (but w/ a tiny bit of Raven Boys so bare with me).
> 
> Jim Lake Jr.= **Richie Tozier**  
>  Barbara Lake= **Maggie Tozier**  
>  Toby Domzalski= **Beverly Marsh**  
>  Claire Nunez= **Eddie Kaspbrak**  
>  Neeve= **Sonia Kaspbrak**  
>  Darci Scott/Adam Parrish= **Bill Denborough**  
>  Not Enrique= **Georgie**  
>  Mary Wang/Noah Czerny= **Stanley Uris**  
>  Eli Pepperjack/Gansey= **Mike Hanlon**  
>  Steve Palchuck= **Ben Hanscom**
> 
> Srry that I fail but trust me, it'll maybe make sense.


	2. Becoming, Prt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School stuff and then some troll stuff.

# Becoming, Part 1

This isn’t Eddie’s first romp at some new school, but he hopes it’s the last new school. He holds onto his schedule and a little map he drew up of the school. To think, he couldn’t think to bring a map or directions on how to get there. _Stupid, stupid, Eddie, so stupid._

He stands outside the first-class realizing the person from the car earlier is in there already talking to a whole class. Eddie groans. So far not so great here. Maybe this could be the second to last new school. The man steps out closing the door behind him. Eddie realizes either the teacher is super tall or he’s super short, it could also be both. Probably both.

Before Eddie can introduce himself, the teacher speaks first, “I believe I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have followed you earlier this morning, especially in a place like Derry.” Eddie is about to add, _Or anywhere_ , but again this teacher beats him to speaking, “Kids have started to go missing around here. Since you’re new, it’d probably be best to know that.”

“Um. . .I’m Eddie Kaspbrak,” is the actual reply Eddie manages. _Stupid, stupid._

“I’m Mr. Strickler. Welcome to ancient history class.” He opens the door leading Eddie inside. “Pardon the interruption, but we have a new student joining us here, Eddie Kaspbrak, from. . .”

“Um. . .New York.” Eddie watches the teacher rather than looking at any of the students. He needs to get through this day without making any enemies or friends and it’s straight home to his mother.

Somebody yelps startling Eddie. His heart rate pops again. Those pills are in his bag, at least. One bathroom trip and he can take it with the water from the sink, wash it down and kill the rising anxiety. Eddie looks to see the Trash Kid from earlier looking behind him while rubbing the back of his head. He mouths the word “Ow” at a girl behind him.

“Mr. Tozier, do you have anything you’d like to say to the class or our new student?” asks Mr. Strickler.

But Richie is still looking at a red-haired girl behind him, she simply smirks at him and flicks a folded paper at him. Rather than pick it upright, Richie turns around to look over at Mr. Strickler with some stupid smirk. He stomps on the paper to pull it closer. 

“Sorry, a bee bit me,” says Richie.

“A bee? _Bit you_?” replies Mr. Strickler.

“Crazy shit, right?” Only Richie laughs, or at least, the girl behind does snicker but covers her mouth so nobody else can see.

“Language, Mr. Tozier.” Mr. Strickler points at an empty seat close to the windows. “Seems like a bad dream woke you up.”

“I wasn’t asleep, promise.” 

Mr. Strickler turns away from everybody to roll his eyes as he starts to write something out on the chalkboard. Meanwhile, Richie turns around ignoring the fact that Mr. Strickler has started to talk about a map of ancient Turkey and the space between there and Greece. He squints at the girl while she continues to just smile, but she covers her mouth when she starts to snicker again.

Richie opens the paper and sees it says, “Cute boy alert.” Richie slams it down on his desk getting the attention of the class and Mr. Strickler again. “Sorry, I had killed to bee that bit me, it’s already tasted blood. We wouldn’t want it to kill somebody, would we?”

Mr. Strickler sighs as his only comment and returns to his lecture.

But Richie isn’t about to listen. He snaps his attention back to the girl, and loud whispers,“Bev! No!”

“Richie! Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Mr. Tozier!” Mr. Strickler interrupts forcing them to both look at Mr. Strickler. “Would you like to repeat what I just said? What is the original name of Troy?”

Richie taps his desk and slowly pulls the paper off and into his one pocket. “Um Yort?” Strickler frowns. He tries to look at the board figuring out if its there, but nope. “Istanbul?”

“Please see me after class, Mr. Tozier.”

At least the bell rings, and Strickler starts to erase the board. Eddie jumps out of his seat glad to run away from this secondhand embarrassment. Most people clear the room, but Bev slowly comes up beside Richie mouthing the word, “ _Sorry_ ,” to him before she leaves the classroom, but he spots her waiting outside across the hall from him at least. Richie starts to pack up his book and an empty notebook. Earlier he had drooled on the page and decided it’s best not to write in it for the day. Richie swings his bag onto his back walking up to Mr. Strickler.

Mr. Strickler still has his back to him, erasing the board. Richie stands by his desk picking up a sandwich that’s sitting there. It’s wrapped in some discolored plastic so he brings it a little closer to his face in an attempt to guess what’s on the inside. When Mr. Strickler turns around, Richie slowly puts it down. “Were you just touching my lunch?”

“No,” replies Richie putting it down. “Maybe.”

Mr. Strickler sits down at his desk leaning his face into the palms of his hands for a moment. He sighs deeply, which Richie is pretty sure is a bit too dramatic. “That’s the second time you fell asleep in class this week,” he comments.

“I personally don’t think that’s a big deal.”

“You do realize it’s Tuesday.”

“I’m two for two, which is cool because that means I’m consistent.”

“Richie,” groans Mr. Strickler, “this is not a joke.”

Richie stands there poking his sandwich again, which to be honest, he didn’t really want to do in the first place. It sort of just happened. Him standing there poking his teacher’s lunch while staring at him and then also saying, “Are you sure because my life is a joke?”

“ _Richard_.”

“My name is actually Ricardo.”

The bell rings for the next class. Poor Bev stands out there flailing to get Richie’s attention while shrugging. She takes off no longer willing to wait for him. 

“Your name isn’t Ricardo. Just-Just please listen to me for a second,” it honestly sounds like Mr. Strickler is about to beg.

“Ok, ok, I’ll shut up. What?” Richie tucks his hands into his pocket feeling the paper inside with Bev’s stupid words on it. Good thing nobody even saw it. Just him. Just her. Just them.

Mr. Strickler leans a little into his desk, folding his hands together. “Have you been speaking to one of the counselors since your dad left?” Richie shakes his head. “Makes sense, that can be a hard step, but I’ve noticed a decline in your grades and you frequently fall asleep in class now.”

Richie points at Mr. Strickler and chuckles. “But hey, I have an excuse, at least! I’m always up late cooking for my mom since she always works the night shift at the hospital. I’m helping her save lives, pretty amazing, am I right? I’m right.”

In other words, I’m worried about you, it’s almost as if you’re lifting the whole world on your shoulders.”

This gets another sigh reaction. Mr. Strickler scrawls out a number on a little post-it note and hands it to Richie. “Cool, thanks, but I don’t think teachers are allowed to date students.”

“Not funny,” snaps Mr. Strickler. He rolls his eyes and gets up to open the door also handing Richie a hall pass seeing how late he’s about to be for his next class. “I think it’s about time I had a chat with your mother, Young Atlas.”

“Yeah, so I don’t get that reference,” replies Richie.

“Maybe if you stayed awake in class, you would.” He closes the door watching Richie back away. 

For a moment, Richie thinks about skipping class, but then they’d call home, which meant his mom would catch wind of everything, and this is her day to sleep in, but she never came home last night. He clutches the hall pass and tosses the phone number into a trashcan. Sucks that the class is on the opposite side of the building. He leaves one hallway into a more open area, there are a few students out there and one of the teachers sits at the desk.

“Richard Tozier!” she shouts when she spots him startling a bunch of kids out there.

Richie lifts his pass. “No need to worry, I’m legally allowed to be here.”

He keeps heading across towards another hallway to get to class. Once he’s out of sight, he goes to pluck the note from Bev out but instead pulls the strange thing he found earlier. Richie stops. It’s circular with some words engraved into it glowing a faint blue color. Weird. Instead of going to class, he changes his route to head toward the nurse’s office feigning a migraine. Fuck this shit, but Bev spots him from their class and signals for him to come in. Richie goes to grab the door still looking through the window while Bev points at the new kid.

Instead, Richie waves, lifts up a hall pass and backs straight away about to head toward the nurse, his only chance of escape. To be honest, he’s already feeling sick to his stomach anyway. He glances at his weird find one more time before tucking it away. There is something off, what, he has no idea nor is he ready to investigate. Video games seem more ideal and also maybe his mom still isn’t home letting him have a moment of absolute peace, hopefully.


	3. Becoming, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some casual Trollhunter stuff happening here.

# Becoming, Part 2

“MOM?!” Richie shouts the moment he walks into the house. “MOTHER FIGURE? MAGGIE?”

There’s movement upstairs as she comes down the skinny stairway drying her hair. She stops looking down at Richie. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m dying, Mom, so they sent me home. They think it’s meningitis.”

“You don’t have meningitis.”

“No, I swear I have meningitis, and I’m spending my final days playing video games.” Richie dramatically tosses his bag to the side before kicking the door closed behind him. “I left food in the fridge, did you catch it?”

Maggie tosses the towel back up the stairs before looking back at Richie. She’s already in her scrubs, ready to head out the door. “I did. . .” There’s a long pause. She doesn’t move off the staircase while looking down at Richie. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Mags! I’m obviously I’m not ok. Meningitis kills people.”

“I mean, that is a fact, but you don’t have meningitis and stop calling me Mags.” Maggie sighs. “I left some money on the kitchen table and a little note so you know what to order me if you get Chinese food or Thai or pizza. Stop cooking, you look tired.”

“Wow! Rude, that’s how people say you look ugly these days,” Richie says waving to her as he stares to walk into the living room. 

Their home isn’t too big. In one of those old rowhomes. The living room is basically connected to the kitchen. Richie looks over at the sink to see several dishes in the sink from the meals he’d left behind for her. The steps creak as Maggie returns upstairs. Richie goes into the kitchen opening the trashcan to see most of the food in there. He slams the lid shut before walking over to the fold up table to pick up Maggie’s note. Plain rice if Chinese food or Thai. Nothing if pizza.

He returns to the living room collapsing on the couch grabbing his Game Boy from the coffee table but turns out the batteries are dead. Maggie returns while he is popping them out. “Where’s the batteries, Mags?”

“Didn’t I just say don’t call me Mags. And we’re out so, I’ll pick up some on my way home. I’d say go out and get some but you’re dying of meningitis, which is pretty contagious.”

Richie pretends to swoon on the couch he’s already lying on. “Only television can cure me now.”

“Bye Richie,” Maggie says.

He continues to lie there, hand dramatically over his forehead like some Victorian housewife dying of ennui. “Farewell, Margaret.”

“Don’t call me Margaret either.” Maggie tosses a pillow at him from where she stands. “I hope Bev tells you that you can be a real prick sometimes.”

“Mother figure, if I told you what Bev says to me in private, you would blush.”

Maggie laughs. “Dear God, please never let me know.” She takes her bag from close to the door and grabs her car keys. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok? Do you need anything beyond batteries?”

Richie leans his head back looking at her while lying there on the couch. “Dr. Pepper?”

“Richie! You know we can’t have that in this house.” When she leaves, she doesn’t even say goodbye. Richie lies there with the Game Boy resting on his chest. He looks at the ceiling counting the cracks before making a move to find the remote.

Of course the remote is MIA, he turns on the TV manually before collapsing back onto the couch. _Unsolved Mysteries_ is on, and while he considers keeping his eyes open but it’s impossible.

**###**

_“There has to be some sort of walkie talkie in there,” Bev said while Richie stopped to pick through the rocks in the middle of the canal. “We gotta go.”_

_Except he heard it again, the rocks spoke out to him, “Richard Tozier.” He looked over at Bev making a goofy surprised face and stepped closer to the pile of rocks. “Richard Tozier.”_

_“C’mon, Trashmouth! Somebody is fucking around with you. It’s probably that Bill kid or like Bowers because you’re such a nerd.”_

_Richie smirked at her. “Me, a nerd? I’m pretty sure that’s you.”_

_“Oh, ok., I’m supposed to believe that from the kid who snuck into The Lost Boys?”_

_“Beaverly, nerds watch Star Wars, not The Lost Boys.”_

_“You force me to watch Friday the 13th literally every Friday the 13th,” Bev continued to protest. “Aso, don’t call me Beaverly, that’s flat out rude.”_

_“Again, nerds would force you to watch Star Wars, I don’t. I make you watch murder.”_

_Again the rocks spoke up to him, “Richard Tozier.” Bev went to grab onto his arm, but he moved closer to the rocks picking through them until he found some sort of round, glowing blue crystal. Richie knelt there holding onto it before showing it to Bev._

_“I’m the fucking Chosen One now! I win!”_

_Bev rolled her eyes. “Great, we’re all gonna die because of you, the hero, the kid who can’t shut up even if his life depended on it.”_

_Richie grabbed onto a stick to help him pry through the rocks, using it as a lever while he held on tight to the weird glowing crystal. At least, the rocks had shut up by that point. No more Richard Tozier._

_“See you later, Trashmouth!” she yelled as she rode away leaving Richie alone._

_“Well! Fuck you? I’m adorable and nobody will be mad if I’m late!” Richie shouted after her before he looked down at the crystal noticing some words around it. “For the Glory. . .” he began to whisper only to notice, he wasn’t alone, to an extent._

_He looked up realizing some kid is standing on the bridge looking down at him. Some kid he was pretty sure he spotted moving in not too long ago and hadn’t seen in since like the house ate him up. Only the kid was already looking away from him. Richie looked back down and tucked it away in his pocket._

**###**

Something strikes the floor waking Richie up. His glasses are on the couch behind him. _Shit. Fuck._ He puts them on glad they’re ok, the last time he returned home with broken glasses after being shoved to the ground, Maggie cried. It didn’t seem fair. No matter how many times he told her it was because of the Henry Bowers kid and his friends, she called him a liar. His dad, too, but he’s gone now to live with some a picture-perfect family where the kids didn’t blurt their thoughts 24/7.

The crystal is on the floor. He leans down to pick it up whispering out loud those words, “For the glory of Merlin. Daylight is mine to command.” Richie turns it over to find nothing there before looking at the front. It’s less crystal and more weird glowing blue clock.

Somewhere in the basement, there’s a crashing sound causing Richie to drop the weird object. He looks at the closed door that leads to the basement. _Fuck._ Maggie is long gone by this point and it’s already dark out. Before moving, he puts the crystal thing into his back pocket and is off to the kitchen snatching one of the steak knives before turning his attention to the basement.

The only way down there is to walk straight through their house and the amount of times his mom forgets to lock the door is terrifying. And he was the one always showing her _Unsolved Mysteries_ or _America’s Most Wanted_. Each time she lets him know, that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like us, which is pretty bold seeing the fact several kids have gone missing in Derry, still not found. Then there was the whole murder-suicide next door when some dad snapped. Good thing his dad just fucking got up and left.

Richie opens the basement door staring down the broken wooden steps. So much skinnier than the main stairs. He hits on a light switch, but the bulbs down there have seen better days. There’s about two downstairs, and they all flicker. The dryer is grumbling away, getting faster and faster. He holds the knife out and steps forward into the basement. Some portraits his mom used to paint stare back at him through so much dust.

“I’m armed and dangerous!” Richie yells. He looks around, but he’s alone. Somehow a cool breeze drifts through the basement. “I’ve already called the cops.” But that was a lie, which was stupid. The phone was right there in the kitchen, too.

There’s some heavy movement behind him. Richie whirls around ready to stab the intruder as many times as possible, which means he has to get close, which is also unfortunate. A creature with maybe a hundred or a thousand eyes stares at him from the darkness and he has four arms. Richie stumbles backward shouting only to slam his head into the dryer.

The creature stands there holding his hands out like he comes in peace. Still Richie climbs back to his feet holding out the knife. “I can still stab you, I will stab all your eyes if you touch me.”

“Master Richard! Master Richard!” the creature starts to say.

“Who told you my name?” snaps Richie. “Also. . .don’t call me that, it’s Richie.”

“Master Richie, we found you!”

“Wait, _we_?” asks Richie unsure if each eye counts for a separate creature. 

Another larger than life creature steps out of the shadows. He has horns and looks as if he’s made of rock with moss growing across it. Richie starts to scream and this new creature starts to scream and the multi-eyed creature starts to scream so Richie screams louder than them.

“Master Richie! Master Richie!” When the multi-eyed creature steps closer Richie stumbles back again, tripping over his foot and hits his head again. “I am known as Blinky.” 

At least, Richie stops screaming. He sits there with one hand on his head and the other he uses to point the knife at them. But when the second creature moves closer Richie starts screaming again and points the knife at him instead.

“No, he is known as Arrrgh, there are only three r’s, not twenty.”

Richie gawks at them with no response, it’s a rare moment nobody else has experienced, and these monsters couldn’t even appreciate since they all just met. At some point, everybody started to call him Trashmouth because there were too many times where felt too much energy crawling around inside him so he starts blurting all the words on his mind, and the amount of insults always circling through his head will send him straight to hell.

Richie stands up still rubbing the back of his head but refuses to let his guard down. “Ok, so I’m gonna need some explanations to what’s happening right now.

“That’s why we’re here,” Blinky says.

“Then get on with it!”

Blinky looks at his hands as if he has some words written there. “Right, right, where was I again. Master Richie, we found you! You have been chosen. The Amulet of Daylight challenges you to ascend to the most sacred of offices.”

Richie looks from Blinky to Arrrgh and blurts, “I’m sorry, but what the actual fuck?” He thinks of the strange object and drops the knife for the first time to pull it out. It sits on the palm of his hand while Blinky and Arrgh stare down at it, all their faces illuminated by the blue light. Blinky comes forward closing Richie’s hands over it, which only gets a response of Richie wrinkling his nose.

“Responsibility,” says Blinky.

“I’m not really a superhero guy when it comes to comics.”

“You have a responsibility now, Master Richie, unbeknownst to your kind, there is a secret world, a vast civilization of trolls lurking beneath your very feet, hidden from view.”

Richie gawks at him. “What the fuck? There’s trolls in the sewer system. That can’t be healthy.”

“First, Master Richie, one should not speak that way, and second, not in the sewers. There are trolls, but they don’t live in the sewers and it is now your charge to protect them. You are the Trollhunter, Master Richie.”

“Oh,” whispers Richie. He stares down at the amulet vaguely remembering Blinky calling it the Amulet of Daylight then there were the words along it, _Daylight is mine to command_. So it’s not like these are some mutated crackpots in his basement, making up some shit, it’s all connected. Richie looks up at Blinky stepping forward. “Me, I’m the Trollhunter, protector of non-sewer trolls?”

“Precisely, Master Richie!” Blinky has a huge smile and he looks over at Arrgh who also smiles and nods. “Is this an honor you accept?”

Richie puts his hands out and Blinky awkwardly reaches out to touch them like they’re about to shake hands or hug. Instead, Richie slams the so-called Amulet of Daylight into the palm of Blinky’s one hand. “I don’t fucking want it.” With this he storms off up the stairs. “Go find some other Trollhunter. Promise, there’s better options out there and better options who aren’t kids”

“But Master Richie! It was a rhetorical question when I asked if you accepted this honor!” Blinky yells after him. The amulet casually sits there as he frantically looks from Richie to Arrgh. When he makes it up the stairs, the door is already closed and barred from the outsider. “Oh bugger!”

**###**

Richie is carrying two trash bags outside the back door into a tiny pretend yard area. It’s not huge, but they have a Tiki torch, a grill, and a broken couch covered in plastic so rain doesn’t get on it. A tall fence blocks the yard from the world and he heads toward the one door about to unlock it to take the trash out.

“Doesn’t even make sense. Why would a troll _hunter_ protect trolls? Hunters hunt,” Richie is grumbling to himself. When he reaches for the little lock something whacks him in the back of the head. He falls forward losing his glasses. _Fuck, no_. He reaches down. “Please don’t be broken, please don’t be broken.” If he made his mom cry again, he’d somehow finally break, it wouldn’t be right. But then again, he should probably be more worried about the trolls maybe attacking him. Him dying would make her cry too. Richie puts his glasses on to find himself alone. One of the trashbags ripped open in his fall spewing pasts out like blood and guts. “How am I supposed to clean tha. . .” 

The actual fucking amulet is lying there close to Richie’s feet. He can’t even form thoughts to finish because when he looks up and around, nobody is around. Not those trolls. His eyesight might be shit, but he’d notice two larger than life trolls standing around.

Richie picks up the amulet and stares at it. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you.” He chucks it with all his might into the next yard before returning to how to resolve his current mess. 

This time around, Richie is leaning over to salvage some of the broken bag when he spots the amulet flying towards him. He puts his hands up to protect his face only to catch it. He straightens his back looking at it again reading the words around the illuminated clockwork.

“What the heck.” Richie touches it while standing there. He still has to clean up his mess and probably call Bev to tell her about this complete nonsense. Some odd thought enters his head that he can’t really explain or put a finger on. “For the glory of Merlin. Daylight is mine to command.”

Turns out, he somehow triggered something. Richie’s feet leave the ground and the whole time he keeps whispering fuck, fuck, oh fuck. None of this is good. None of this is ok. The amount of times he made fun of Bev for reading _Sailor Moon_ could not prepare himself for a moment what he’d call a magical girl or maybe magical boy changing sequence. Next thing he knows, he’s wearing some armor that faintly glows the same blue color. The amulet rests over his chest, stuck inside the armor.

“Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!” Richie starts to shout, which if somebody is walking by has to get curious. He tries to pry away the armor but it doesn’t budge. A sword forms in his hands leaving him standing there in a heap of trash while wearing some magic armor. Richie stares at himself in the reflection of the sword. “I’m gonna be the motherfucking Tuxedo Mask of Trolls.”

In an attempt to swing the sword, he drops it. It severs open the not ripped bag and slices into the ground. But Richie doesn’t care, he’s got a sword. He attempts to pull it out but it doesn’t move. He loses his grip and falls backwards. It’s as if the armor shatters, but really, it all bursts out of reality and he’s lying in the dirty in his street clothes.

“Trollhunter. I’m a Trollhunters. Guess I have to be a fucking Trollhunter.” He stares at the amulet and tucks it into his back pocket to run inside leaving the mess to worry about later. Instead, he goes straight into the kitchen grabbing the phone off the wall dialing Bev’s number.

“Marsh household,” her aunt replies after a few rings.

“It’s Richie, can I talk to Bev.”

“Oh hey, Rich! But sorry, Bev’s out for the night.”

Richie stands there tugging at the chord to the phone. “Wait, what? Where is she?”

“Greta’s house, it’s a sweet sixteen party. You know how it is.”

Ok, but Greta and Bev aren’t even friends. He doesn’t say this out loud, which is pretty unusual on his behalf. Maybe it’s the long silence that makes her aunt realize, he doesn’t get it.

“Let me give you Greta’s number, ready?”

Richie moves to the fridge grabbing a pencil out of a little holder. There’s a notepad he glued to the fridge after its magnet broke only for Maggie to tell him it defeated the purpose, now they can’t add a new one. Richie is about to say _Ok_ to Bev’s aunt when he realizes his mom scrawled something on the top post-it: _call_ back and underneath it said Walter Strickler with his number.

Instead, he surprises himself by letting Bev’s aunt know, “Actually, I’ll just see her tomorrow. I wanted to chat about something random anyway.”

“You know it’s important for her to be friends with girls at her age,” is the response he gets.

“Yeah, yeah. Makes sense.” 

Richie puts the phone on the hook sighing. He looks at the money on the table deciding against dinner and heads up to his room. There’s a lot to consider like trolls exist and he has no choice other than to protect them and what happened to the last Trollhunter? Maybe that was a question he should have asked earlier along with: _So how do I get in contact with you?_ He falls back on his bed taking his glasses off to give his eyes somewhat a break while staring at the strange contraption. The words are a blur, but they’re easy to remember. _For the glory of Merlin. Daylight is mine to command._

Richie puts the amulet down on his nightstand forgetting to turn on his alarm clock. He lies there watching headlights pass over the ceiling. “What the fuck do I do now?”


	4. Lunches, Losers, and Lovers. Oh Shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie meets some of the Losers only to learn a bit more about the high school as a whole and details about a certain Richie Tozier.

# Lunches, Losers, and Lovers. Oh Shit.

Eddie holds a paper bag lunch as tight as possible crushing his lunch, but that’s what he gets for bringing a sandwich along. The jelly is already soaking through the paper and he still has no idea how to handle the whole cafeteria world. It’s day two and he’s stuck in a safari. The only person who spoke to him all day yesterday was the Trash Kid and Trash Kid didn’t show up to first period leaving him all alone again to the big, bad cafeteria world. Maybe a friend this time would be ideal.

Most tables are pretty full then the ones that aren’t, Eddie gets dirty looks when he walks too close. He’s thinking of eating in the bathroom, which if his mother knew, she’d take him straight to the ICU afraid of MRSA or C Diff or cholera or whatever you get from poop these days.

“H-H-Hey N-New Kid!” some boy waves him down. It’s just him and one other kid at a table. The second kid has curly hair and is too busy paging through a book to pay attention to Eddie. “S-Sit h-here.”

“No thanks, I’m ok,” Eddie whispers.

Curly haired kid looks up at the one kid then over at Eddie. “Oh! Sit here, New Kid! We have something for you.”

Eddie does a quick scan to make sure it’s only him and he sits down at the table with them. The curly haired kid pushes a little booklet he bound on his own towards Eddie.

“I’m Stan, by the way, and that’s Bill.”

The first kid who caught Eddie’s attention looks a little distracted now that Eddie is at the table. He’s looking somewhere else in the cafeteria leaving Eddie to page through the little booklet. It’s made to look like some scientific animal manual, but of students in the school. Little drawings of the student with a little bird to match them. Eddie looks up at Stan.

“You made this?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, I want to be an ornithologist when I grow up.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“B-B-Birds,” says Bill as he joins the conversation. “He wants to-to s-s-study b-birds.”

Eddie doesn’t want it to be all obvious, and yet he finds himself pausing over a little entry about Richie. There’s a little drawing of him and his ridiculous shirt beside a boring, small bird who wears big glasses. It says “trash bird” by the bird’s foot.

“That’s somebody you want to avoid,” Stan says. “He’ll annoy you to death, trust me.”

“W-W-We know b-best,” adds Bill.

“We were friends in grade school.” Stan turns a page pointing at a group of pigeons before referencing a table of girls who are sitting close together, laughing about something. “Greta is another person to look out for.” Next, he shows Eddie a series of emus and ostriches, fearsome birds that look too much like the remnants of dinosaurs. “The Bowers Gang, don’t mess with them.” Again, Stan points at a table where only guys sit. “There’s Henry, Vic, Peter, Moose, Belch, Gard, Patrick, and Ben.”

Bill interrupts them, he blindly reaches out for Stan to get his attention. “She-She’s a-alone.”

Stan and Eddie look over to see the red haired girl who sits behind Richie sitting by herself. She stays curled up in her seat while picking at her food avoiding looking at the table of girls. “That’s Bev Marsh, Bill has had a crush on her since the second grade.”

“Have n-n-not,” retorts Bill while he sits there staring at Bev.

Eddie flips through the little booklet to find her bird close to Richie’s, only she’s a pretty red bird. He looks up at them attempting to rejoin the conversation, “I have first period with her and Richie. Um yesterday I saw them on my way in and Richie gave me a ride. We were late, but I was already late so it’s not his fault.”

Both Bill and Stan snap their attention to Eddie saying, “What?” in unison. 

“I mean, I don’t know, he doesn’t seem that annoying, kind of funny actually.”

“No, you don’t understand,” starts Stan. He and Bill look at each other before returning their attention to Eddie. Bill had given him a nod to explain something leaving Eddie out of the loop and about as confused as ever. “See we used to be best friends with Richie Tozier, we did everything together, had a clubhouse, called ourselves the Losers Club, and then one day he’s going to meet us at the movies and stops to talk to Bev so he invites her along and pays for her ticket claiming she didn’t have any money. Then in the fifth grade for the school play, Richie and Bev kissed on stage and not like a normal stage kiss and they’ve been together ever since even though he knew Bill liked her.”

Figures, Eddie sits there staring at Bev. Her hair is cut pretty short, she has red curls and she’s dressed in her own quirky, mismatched way. Her clothes my clash, but she matches all of Richie. “Is Richie still dating Bev?”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on her too?” Stan starts to chuckle but Bill doesn’t find this funny so Stan stops and looks down. He is about to say something else when some shouting distracts them. 

They all turn to see Richie running into the cafeteria or really the aftermath of him running in and crashing into one of the kids Stan warned Eddie about. The kid is on the ground while Richie frantically looks around.

“That’s Ben,” Eddie says. “If you were going to crash into somebody like that, better him than Henry or Patrick. They’ll kill you. Wait to you learn what they did to Ben when he first moved here, not good.”

“Sorry, emergency!” Richie shouts as he continues on with Ben yelling something after him.

Richie is out of earshot as he jumps into a seat beside Bev and whispers something to her. She looks annoyed, but he grabs her tray running off making her follow him. The two are gone leaving all the cafeteria chaos behind. Bill sighs and returns to his lunch. Meanwhile, Eddie sits there still looking after the two of them.

“I mean, are you sure they’re together?” Eddie asks. It sounds more stupid when he says it out loud seeing the two raced off with each other.

Stan and Bill look at each other, giving one another some look Eddie can’t read. Eddie decides to shut up by eating the smooshed remains of his sandwich. They end up remaining silent rather than fill Eddie in on anything else until the bell rings. He wishes he ate instead in the bathroom just so he could contract C Diff and die.

Nobody really stands up right away in the cafeteria even with the bell ringing. Stan stuffs some of his papers into his bag. “Um. . .you should join us sometime after school,” he says. “We usually hang out at Bill’s to watch movies or play video games. Sometimes this one kid, Mike, joins us, he volunteers his free periods in the library.”

“I have to go home straight away after school,” Eddie tells them. It’s true but feels like a lie.

They seem to think it’s a lie so Bill speaks up even though he let Stan do most of the talking during lunch. “If-If it’s b-b-b-because of the m-missing kids, w-w-we can help. S-Safer in numbers, r-r-right?”

“No, really, my mom would be worried about me.” It feels weird saying mom rather than mother, but the last time he called her mother in public, people laughed about it. Eddie picks up his stuff, too. “But thanks.”

“Bill, has a Sega Genesis!” Stan blurts. Bill scowls at him and Stan shrugs. “It’s true, and his mom lets us play Mortal Kombat ever since. . .something happened.”

“Y-Y-You should c-c-come.”

“I’ll think about it.” Eddie ends the conversation by taking off from them. Nope, straight home. His mother is already furious with him insisting he leaves too early to get to school because he wants to avoid her in the morning.

Outside Eddie realizes he has no idea where Richie and Bev went, it’s like the two disappeared. He’s close to the gym and its locker rooms. People are flooding the halls trying to rush to class or lunch depending on their schedule. He tosses the remnants of his sandwich before looking at the little bird booklet from Stan, he’s about to toss it when instead he decides to keep it.

Do. Not. Make. Friends. Friends meant they’d move again and again and again because his mother said it was for the best, the only way to protect such a cursed child.

It’d be weird if he came out and told those kids he was cursed, they’d probably laugh about it. The idea of killing your first love, sounds too dramatic. Eddie slows a little bit thinking about one of the stories Stan said about the whole 5th-grade school play thing. There’s a little paper taped to the wall about auditions for _Romeo and Juliet_ , which happen to be soon as in it’ll start in 30 minutes, which is at least somewhat during school hours. He peels it off the wall staring at it before tucking it away with Stan’s bird drawings. Last year they did Romeo and Juliet in class so he knows the gist of it. Love and death, lots of death like everybody dies sort of death.

His mother’s words returned: _And Eddie! Keep in mind, you’re going to kill your true love so be careful out there. Don’t go and make us move again._

No wait, this has to be a terrible idea. No friends. He cannot make friends. If he makes friends, they’ll move again, his mother was like that and if he talked to Richie more, well. No. Maybe. Maybe he can try and live a little, which seems unfair to the other party. 

But what are the chances his mother has been telling the truth this whole time? 

And if she was telling the truth about killing his first love, what are the chances it’s some class clown called Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. 

The chances have to be 0. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I promise Ben will have a cool story and 2. I'm not happy with this chapter esp. with Stan and I'm sorry about that but pls let me know if you wanna keep reading and if this is cool.


	5. That Time Richie Turned Out to be the Chosen One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie tells Bev his secret.
> 
> Oh and. . .
> 
> Richie and Eddie have a very charged moment on stage for the school play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I'm just so tired there's like going to be little to no homophobia in this (hopefully) because yeah I'm tired.

# That Time Richie Turned Out to be the Chosen One

If Bev were somebody else, she might have hit Richie. Hit him for making her move. Hit him for taking her lunch and dropping it. Hit him for not saving her from Greta's party. Hit him so he would just shut up for a change. He talked so fast. He pulled her into the boy's locker room and she feels self-conscious even though they're alone. She stands there covering her chest picking at her sleeves. 

"RICHIE!" she yells and he stops. "One, you're not making sense and two, I get to go first because-because you suck. You super suck and I'm gonna make sure you know why."

"No, wait. Let me show you." He pulls the amulet from his pocket, but Bev bops it out of his hand. "Hey!"

"Carol said you called last night!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! Richie! I was at Greta's. Did you really think I went there of my own free will? Carol made me go."

Richie stares at her for a few seconds. He leans over picking up the amulet but doesn't do anything with it. "She said you need to hang out with girls at your age."

"Ok, ok, but Richie, she says that bullshit all the time and you're gonna decide now. Like ok there was that time I got that Cranberries tape so I invited you over. What did she say?"

"Dreams is a girl's song so you need girlfriends?"

"Yeah! Basically! That's the point I'm trying to make. I literally just told you she says that bullshit all the time so you listened to her and you let me stay there! And you know how cruel they are."

"Can we go back for a sec? I don't understand why The Cranberries are girl's music. I'm pretty sure they write music for everybody."

"Richard Tozier! I am going to murder you then I'm going to cut your body up and throw your pieces to the alligators in the sewer."

"Bev. . .alligators don't live in the sewer."

Bev stands there just screaming like she’s about to strangle Richie, he takes a step back still holding tight to his amulet about to bring it up again, but that might not be right. “Richie! Just fucking shut up, please.”

“It’s a gift, you know,” he whispers.

“Richie! I fucking sat around there last night listening to them complain about me, say why they hate me, they made an actual circle around me to say why they hated me and kept calling me all sorts of names.” Bev looks close to tears but Richie has no idea how to handle tears. He puts a hand out touching her elbow as if that is going to help. “You really don’t get it.”

“People call me names all the time, it’s not a big deal. People are just stupid like that.”

“It’s different! I swear! And it’s you! You don’t care, you don’t care what anybody says about you, you laugh at the people who make fun of you.”

 _I don’t want to talk about this_ , Richie thinks about saying but doesn’t. He stares at her and lies, “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry about that.”

Bev sighs. “What-What did you even want to tell me?”

Richie holds up the amulet for her. “I think it’ll be better if I show you.”

Bev rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

“No, I’m serious. It’s gonna be like Sailor Moon, but real life.” Richie stares at the amulet like he needs to read what it says super fast, “ForthegloryofMerlindaylightisminetocommand.” Nothing happens. Of course, it doesn’t, and he’s not ready to speak up or slower because he doesn’t want Bev to hear the words. “Forthe gloryofMerlin. Daylight is minetocommand.”

Still nothing.

Bev dramatically groans throwing her head back. “I’m gonna go before I get in trouble for being in the boy’s locker room. She walks away from Richie and opens the front door to find Henry Bowers and Ben Hanscom waiting out there. She slams the door shut before they can make a move toward the locker rooms. “RICHIE!”

Richie steps out from the lockers looking over at her. The two are banging on the door. Ben is the one shouting at them. “Hey! You! Person!” he shouts “Get out!”

“He’s not really good at bullying,” Richie tells Bev.

Bev’s eyes widen as she gawks at him. “Richie, we’re about to die and that’s what you say.”

Ben continues to yell. “ASSBUTT!” 

“It’s ASS _HOLE_ , you fucking idiot!” Richie yells at him.

“Another example about you making fun of people calling you names,” Bev whispers holding the door shut while Richie does nothing.

“What? No, this is different. He called us assbutt. That’s not name-calling.”

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” Henry yells. The pounding grows louder and the door trembles a bit. Bev looks at Richie hoping he’ll move but he looks frozen. “TOZIER! I’m gonna fucking murder you! The second I get in, I’ll make your friend clean up the mess.”

“Go suck a dick!” Richie yells leaving Bev to fight a losing battle.

Somewhere somebody yells for them to stop. The amulet glows brighter, the blue increases and without even saying the words or maybe it counted earlier Richie finds himself stuck in his armor and reaches out almost missing his magic sword. Bev staggers to the side while she gawks at him.

“Oh my God!” she shouts.

“Right!”

“Oh my God!”

“I know!”

“Mr. Tozier?” There’s a soft knock at the door from Mr. Strickler.

Bev mouths the words, _Oh my God_.

“Um. . .I’m naked. . .please, don’t come in!” Richie yells before he hops closer to Bev who reaches out touching his armor still mouthing _Oh my God_. “Bev, I don’t know how to get out of this.”

“Fuck, Richie, you’re Sailor Moon.”

“I don’t know how to get out of this and. . .” He points to the door and Bev throws herself into it stopping Mr. Strickler from coming inside. “I need. . .to find my boxers!”

“Richie. . .I gotta get out of here,” Bev whispers to him. He leans into the door but it doesn’t seem like Mr. Strickler is going to open it. “You need to get out of _that_.”

“Um. . .run. . .?” Bev nods and takes off. She turns around one last time mouthing the words, _Oh my God_ and disappears out the back of the locker room leaving Richie there. He darts in between the lockers pretending nothing is weird, there’s nothing weird about him in armor, not at all or with a sword. He has a sword.

“Mr. Tozier?” Mr. Strickler asks again as the door creaks open.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Richie turns around and around still stuck in armor he can’t pull off. He takes the sword putting it into one of the tall lockers and tries to lean into it right when Mr. Strickler comes around the corner looking at him. They both stare at each other for a long time while Richie sheepishly smiles at Mr. Strickler.

“I don’t think I want to ask,” Mr. Strickler comments.

“The play, it’s for the play, I’m going for. . .the play. . .”

Mr. Strickler raises an eyebrow. “The play that is Romeo and Juliet?”

Richie shrugs. “I’m thinking more DiCaprio than um old, boring one.”

Mr. Strickler stares at him with no smart comment or with for the situation. He shakes his head and starts to head away. “You better hurry, I believe auditions start soon and I’d use the back entrance. There are some, _friends_ , waiting for you outside, Young Atlas.”

“Thanks for the tip, Mr. Strickler.” Richie salutes him and has no idea why. He just does and moves away from his sword in the locker to head where Bev went. “You sure are a keeper!” He turns around and sprints away not sure where to go other than the theatre. Bev is waiting outside for him and follows him as he continues to run without asking too many questions. She’s still a little stuck in her whole _Oh my God_ reaction. “Auditions!” Richie shouts back at her.

“Fuck! Oh my God!” She runs a little faster. “You can’t go like that!”

“I am now. I don’t even know how to pee in this thing.”

“Maybe you should invest in some Depends.”

Richie squints at her. “Shut up.” He gives her a playful little push and Bev runs just a bit faster than him, of course. She’s the type of person who could do anything if she just put her mind to it, just she never did, probably because of people in the past. Life be like that sometimes.

Bev chuckles as she runs a little faster even though they’re smack in the middle of their school building. Richie rolls his eyes not really paying attention and knows for sure he can’t wear armor and he’s stuck in some ridiculous armor. Something smacks into his face, knocking him backward. He slams into the ground, it knocks the air from his lungs and the armor explodes into sparks, disappearing again.

There’s a “RICHIE” and a “TOZIER” yelled at the same time. Richie groans, his glasses are off to the side. When he goes to grab them, somebody stomps on his hand and he gasps.

“You’re such a little shit, Tozier!” yells Henry Bowers, of fucking course.

“Seriously?! Go blow someone already!”

“Get off him!” Bev snaps. It’s just Henry and Ben, which is pretty rare. She stares at Ben ushering for him to do something. He doesn’t, he shakes his head looking more terrified than her.

“BythegloryofMerlindaylightisminetocommand,” Richie says it so fast the words blur and blue light bursts around them knocking Henry off balance. Richie jumps up just going for a punch because he’s ready to get out of there. His fist strikes Henry’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. “Oh fuck. . .oh fuck. . .” He takes a step back almost tripping over himself but then finds himself yelling still at Henry. Not that he wants to, it just happens. “Eat shit!”

Bev shakes her head, “Oh fuck.” 

Before there’s any chance of retaliation, Bev grabs onto Richie so glad he’s pretty quiet for a split second, giving her a better chance to drag him along pulling him at a much faster pace then he could manage before. She shoves some students away ignoring the crowd gathering behind them in the aftermath of a somewhat fight. Somebody shouts at them something about a tooth being knocked out. Be doesn’t stop as they make their way from one side of the school more towards the front where their little theater is. She cuts through a side door and pauses. The two are standing together behind a curtain.

Bev stares at Richie, “Oh my God.”

He gawks at her, “Oh my God.”

“You’re a perfect Romeo, at least.” She signals to the stupid armor he’s stuck in.

“I wanted to be Mercutio.”

“I’m gonna be Mercutio.” 

Without further whatever, she shoves Richie out onto the stage. Bev literally has no idea why other than something in her mind told her to do so. _Right this second, push him_. And so she did. She shoved Richie right out onto the stage, right out from behind their curtains without putting any thought into if anybody is already on the stage mid audition or anything. She whirls around about to yelp about her mistake but then doesn’t.

On stage, Richie almost falls face-first into the ground. He flails his arms around until he defeats gravity and regains his gravity. He looks up about to make some joke, but instead, he finds himself silent by recent happenings. That one new kid is standing there holding a paper in one hand and an inhaler in another. He’s facing the audience but stares at Richie and Richie stands there staring at him.

Richie forgets the kid’s name for a few seconds, there’s not a single sound or peep in his brain, which is so, so strange because it’s always too loud. He stares at this kid and everybody is staring at him. He’s stuck there gawking at the kid. Eddie, that’s his name, it’s Eddie. _Eddie_.

There’s some thought almost forming inside Richie’s mind, but it feels all lost and fuzzy and almost impossible to reach. Somebody probably tells him to say something because he is still standing there gazing at Eddie as Eddie faces everybody else and starts to sidestep away from Richie towards the stage’s steps.

Then words find a way and come to life and as if on command when Bev yells for Richie to say something. Doesn’t matter that it’s a song, he says it all word for word, almost as it comes to mind but changes the words, a tiny bit.

 _Eddie. Eddie._ “Eddie!” Richie shouts, startling Eddie, who stops frantically looking at Richie then at the audience, but apparently Richie isn’t done. “Eddie, how was I supposed to know that something wasn’t right here? I shouldn’t have let you go and now you’re out of sight. . .yeah. Show me how you want it to be, tell me, _Eddie_ , ‘cause I need to know now because my loneliness is killing me and I-and I. . .I must confess, I still believe, that I still believe when I’m not with you, I lose my mind. Just give me a sign!”

The whole time Richie moves across the stage, stuck in his armor at poor Eddie who stands there quickly inhaling deeply thanks to his inhaler. Everybody watches them, so quiet. Bev leans around the curtain while covering her mouth the whole time. Richie stops in front of Eddie taking the paper from his hand, he looks at it for a second before tossing it to the side.

“Hit me, Eddie, hit me one more time.”

Richie is so damn close. Eddie stays put and leans back a tiny bit to get away from him with nothing in mind what to say and his words are on the floor, all Shakespeare when he’s pretty sure Richie is treating Britney Spears as if she wrote a monologue just for him and this moment like they’ve known each other long enough to start fighting over something.

Still, Eddie leans back looking up at Richie, he’s so tall. Eddie steps to the side and hugs his inhaler. “Yeah, well! Well! R-R-Richard. . .you-you drive me crazy, I just can’t sleep, I’m so excited, I’m in too-too deep. . .oh crazy but it um feels alright? _Richard_ , thinking of you keeps me up all night.” For some reason, Eddie reaches out pushing him a little then slaps a hand over his mouth. _Holy Fuck_ , he just said all of that. Well, Britney Spears said it first but it sort of just happened.

Richie jabs a finger in Eddie’s shoulder squinting at him. “Eddie, _Ed_. . . _ward_ , the reason I breathe is you. Booooy, you got me blinded and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, it’s not the way I planned it. Show me how you want. . .”

But Eddie cuts him off getting in Richie’s face almost shouting, a little caught up in a moment, what moment? He has no idea. But it feels like they’re having a fight for some reason. “Ok, Richard, but tell me you’re so into me, that I’m the only one you see, tell me I’m in the blue, that I’m not wasting my feelings on you, every time I look at you, my heart is jumping, what can I do?”

Richie breaks. He bursts into laughter, Eddie is still in his face, standing on his toes even though he’s wobbling a bit looking ridiculous in his normal clothes and hugging his inhaler to his chest or maybe Richie is the ridiculous one, in some magic armor but at least he’s the adorable one. Eddie doesn’t laugh. He stumbles backward from Richie and gawks at their audience. Everybody in the seats are quiet. Bev is off to the side, she claps only to stop cause nobody else reacts.

The drama teacher leaps out of her seat clapping her hands together all at once. “I have a perfect idea!” She darts toward the stage while Richie and Eddie start putting some distance between them. Bev comes out to stand beside Richie. “Instead, we do Romeo and _Julio_.”

“Well that's just a stupid,” replies Richie.

Everybody in the audience gasps as the teacher looks taken aback.

“What? It’s true. Also, Jules is short for Juliet and can be for a guy or a girl and his hilarious because look at him. . .” Richie points at Eddie. “. . .He can be the Capulet family Jules.”

“Do you really just talk like that to everybody?” Eddie finds himself asking.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Bev replies for everybody.

Richie smirks at Eddie causing him to look at the ground. _Shit_. His face is turning bright red, he uses his inhaler again like that’ll stop the embarrassment. “Never was there more woe than the story of Jules and his Romeo, am I right or am I right?” Richie playfully punches Eddie’s shoulder and he loses his inhale. Shit. Shit. Eddie slowly looks up at Richie who is still smiling while Bev is there hanging out with him, sucks to be cursed.

Eddie raises his hands and offers some jazz hands to the situation. “Yay. Tragedy.”


	6. Losers Need a Psychic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgie is missing so Bill asks a psychic about it.

# Losers Need a Psychic 

She's going to be mad. She's going to be furious. There's no telling how angry she will be or what she'll say or if they'll go to the hospital or not all while she sobs. Eddie walks a little faster so mad he left one of his meds at home. She probably noticed first thing. His little watch keeps going off letting him know it's time to take a pill. 

When Eddie reaches home, he almost collapses, out of breath. Back to the inhaler. He stands by their mailbox finding it in him to breath again feeling a little distracted by bikes in the driveway. Then he realizes his mother out some new sign up. It dangles from the mailbox, made of wood. The top says 29 Neilbolt Street. Under that it just says psychic. Then last it says open. Guess there's company. 

Eddie attempts his best to slip in without his mother noticing him. The TV is on in the other room. Some show about murder is going on and on with a monotonous narrator. He slips past the room glad she's not there and goes to his room, but his meds aren't sitting on his dresser. She probably had them downstairs. _Great._

"Is that you Eddie?" his mother shouts. 

Eddie throws his bag to the side. "Yeah, um, bathroom emergency." He darts in there so she can't complain about him not coming straight in and saying hello. 

When Eddie leaves the bathroom, he spots his mother at the bottom of the stairs. "Hi."

"I need your help. We have guests." 

She walks away from him. Meant she's in the kitchen and so Eddie grumbles as he makes his way after her. He almost trips over the little crack in the threshold cause right there, smack in the middle of the kitchen are Stan and Bill with a black kid, probably Mike from the library. He has a stack of books before him on their kitchen table and a notebook. 

"Hi Eddie. Y-You l-l-l-live h-here?" asks Bill. 

"No, I'm robbing the place."

"EDDIE! That is no way to speak to our guests here. Now come sit by me."

Eddie rolls his eyes and sits beside her at the table looking across at the new friend. "I'm Eddie."

"I'm Mike," he confirms. 

Eddie's mother sits there pulling out a deck of Tarot cards, which she starts to shuffle around. She stares at Mike, her eyes all magnified by her glasses. Eddie looks away thinking about how Richie's glasses are too big for his face but somehow work. He smiles then realizes all the guys are looking at him. 

"Are-Are you psy-psychic?"

"No."

His mother hands the whole deck to Mike. "Separate them into three, and think of a question you want to ask. Can't be a yes or no one."

"They say some John Wayne Gacy like killer used to live here," Stan says.

"Nobody says that, I told you that like an hour ago," corrects Mike as he separates the deck into three piles. 

"So I don't know what that means," replies Eddie. 

"D-D-Dresses like c-c-clown, kills p-people."

Mike stops and looks over at Bill. "No, you should go first. The quest can wait. You should ask about Georgie."

"Who's Georgie?" Eddie's mother asks. 

"M-M-My little b-brother who-who w-went m-m-missing over the s-s-summer."

"I see. Sit down."

Bill takes Mike's spot. 

Eddie stares across the table at him. "Hopefully a killer clown didn't get him."

"EDDIE!" shouts his mother, so appalled. She shuffles the deck. "If I didn't need you, I'd send you right back upstairs." When she hands the deck to Bill, he knows what to do. "Having Eddie around strengthens my psychic abilities. What is it you want to ask about your brother?"

Bill breaks the cards down into three decks. "He isn't c-coming h-h-home, is he?"

"Hand me a pile."

Bill does. 

She stares at him and rests a free hand on the back of Eddie's hand. He rolls his eyes. She spreads the cards out in an arch. "Choose only one and we'll find out."

Bill picks one at random flipping it over to find two people holding two cups as they approach one another. They all stare at it. 

"I don't know about Georgie, but it appears you are about to enter a new relationship, a partnership of sorts to work towards a goal. You'll create something together." Eddie's mother leans back in her seat. "Either he returns or you will soon meet the person who will help you find him."

Everybody is so, so, so quiet. The only sound is Mike writing it all down. Funny how they all just met a new kid. 

All Bill can say is "Th-Th-Thanks." And he's just gone. 

This leaves Mike and Stan behind, both look pretty awkward while standing around there unsure whether they need to go or not. Eddie takes the Tarot card that had been Bill’s slipping it into his pocket. He sits with his mother watching the last two Losers. Mike finishes his notes realizing that everybody is more or less paying attention to just him.

“Oh, we’ll. . .come back another time.” Mike closes his notebook and looks at Stan. “Does he know?”

“No,” says Stan. “He doesn’t hang out with people after school.”

Eddie’s mother turns her full attention to Eddie. “Did you say that to them?”

Eddie nods.

She looks over at Mike and Stan. “What kind of children are you?”

Stan and Mike look at each other. “Um ones who do homework,” says Mike. He also adds, “And we work on personal research projects, too.”

“Are there any girls who visit you?”

“Not anymore,” mutters Stan.

“No,” says Mike.

“Why don’t you go play with them today, Eddie, we have a lot to talk about later.”

Eddie stands up watching her as careful as possible before he follows the two outside the house. None of this can be goods, chances are. He looks at Bill who has a giant silver bike that’s way too big for him.

“I don’t have a bike,” Eddie says thinking again for another moment about Richie on that first day and him hanging off the back of his bike. There is so much his mother would be furious if she learned about, she’d keep him locked away in a hospital somewhere if she caught on. Eddie looks over his shoulder to see his mother peering at them through the curtains. “Um my mom says I should spend time with you all.”

“It’s true, I was there,” Stan let Bill know.

Eddie still looks at his mother. “I’d just prefer to walk.”

“Sounds good to me.” Mike picks his bike off the ground. “I don’t mind walking.”

“Walking is ok,” says Stan.

But Bill doesn’t say anything. He’s so quiet. Eddie reaches into his pocket offering up the Tarot Card and all its promises of some sort of partnership. Bill takes it staring at the card. They’re all pretty quiet. Eddie thinks of the missing kids posters and a lost brother. Bill’s brother is out there somewhere, and he’s looking for him. Maybe they all are. Bill tucks the card into his pocket and climbs off the bike taking the lead. They’re all going to walk over to his place.


	7. Trolls Who Hunt Trollhunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Bev run into a whole lot of trouble

# Trolls Who Hunt Trollhunters

Bev sits underneath the Paul Bunyan statue in the middle of town. She's looking up at his beard and axe almost lost in thought. Richie lies there with his earbuds in and walkman resting on his chest. Bev can almost make our whatever he's listening to. There aren’t a lot of words she has to share at the moment, life is all pretty strange. At least, Richie looks relaxed. He looks fast asleep there. Bev sits up a little more while looking down at him. 

For some reason, Bev brushes some messy bangs from his face. Richie continues to lie there but opens his eyes to look up at her. She leans forward taking one earbud for herself and listen to his song, it sounds more like somebody talking with music in the background. She raises an eyebrow. 

Richie shrugs, " _Popular_. Nada Surf." 

"You’re so strange." Bev hangs into his one earbud as he sits up taking them off. "We should go back to that music store sometime. It's been a while since we've done something like that."

"Yeah, because it's closed for like forever."

"No! Since when?"

"I don't know. Like last month, I asked if you wanted to go but you were all distracted by boys."

Bev grins. "Oh, ok, Richie. I don't think you get to make fun of me for being distracted by boys."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He gives her a little push right before stuffing his stuff into his bag. “Shut up.”

Bev looks away for a moment spotting the Losers as they walk with Eddie. They stand so close to one another and appear to be checking on what kind of snacks they bought. Richie sits there leaning into his knees as he watches them all move along with their lives. There are some jumbled thoughts in his head that he struggles to sort through. There’s a whole lot of noise, noise, noise, which is usual but this is more like static noise as words don’t quite come through.

For some time now, him and Bev had a rule where neither of them talked about the Losers, mentioned them by name or brought the past up. She does sit there gazing at Richie and again is all weird, pushing some hair from his face. Richie turns around pushing her hand away.

“You’re the strange one. What is up with that?”

"What do you think Bill thinks of his brother going missing?" asks Bev. 

"Um he probably thinks sadness."

"Yeah, makes sense." Bev looks back at Richie. "Do you think it's trolls?"

"I don't even know what trolls eat, but I hope it’s small children."

Bev stands up stretching. The sun is leaving them for the day and she yawns. "It's like that one story, Billy Goat Gruff or whatever it's called." She looks down to see Richie hasn't really moved. Instead, he's sitting there picking at a loose string on his shirt while watching the Losers head elsewhere. She bites down on her lower lip mad she even thought about bringing anything up about Bill. Best to keep up another conversation. "You know the one I'm talking about, right?"

Richie looks at her I stead. "I don't think so.'

"Goats go over bridge, a troll lives under it and is all like, Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge and Get off my lawn."

"So I feel like you made that second part up."

Bev shrugs and puts her hands out. Richie grabs onto them and she hoists him up. "You're probably right. Ready to head back?"

"Not really."

"Well, I have to be home so you better be ready to head back."

"Yeah, I need to find those two trolls though." Richie continues to lie there looking up at the Paul Bunyan statue. 

The setting sun casts some shadows across them. Bev is up picking her bike off the ground while she looks down at Richie expecting him to just get up and follow and ramble on about some stupid shit. But Richie lies there, pretty quiet but then he has to open his mouth. 

“Do you think Paul Bunyan was really born here?”

“Richie. . .I don’t think Paul Bunyan was a real person.”

He sits up a bit looking at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s a giant lumberjack? He has a blue ox?”

“Ok, but trolls exist so I’m pretty sure lumberjacks can exist, too.”

Bev gawks at him and thinks more to herself, I’m not gonna comment on that. “Sooo I’m just gonna go home now instead. Bye Richie.”

“No! Wait for me!” 

Not that Bev has moved at all. She’s in the same spot, waiting for him no matter what happens. Richie has his bike up and is ready to walk beside her. Rather than ride, the two take their time walking along the sidewalk. The staticky words bounce around his thoughts again with nothing quite coming through all the noise, noise, noise. A few times Bev speaks to him, but he can’t hear because all the sounds are a little too overstimulating.

“Earth, to Rich, Richie?” snaps Bev waving in his face.

Richie looks over at her. “Huh? Yeah? What?”

“What are you even thinking about?”

There’s no answer. Richie shrugs. “Sex?”

“Hm figures.”

Richie watches some of the little shops shut down still trying to get his fucking thoughts together. They’re not just sparks in his mind. “Somehow I’ll have to find one of those trolls.”

“Is that one?”

“Huh?” Richie looks over to see some looming creature down one of the roads. The sun is barely out and he’s in all shadows wearing armor with what appears to be two swords strapped to his back. His red eyes glare at the two of them. “Um. . .no. . .”

Bev hops onto her bike and begins to roll away while Richie is stuck in the same spot staring at this new monster. She stops not too far ahead. “Richie.”

“Trollhunter,” the troll growls as it lunges at them.

“Oh fuck!” shouts Richie. “Go! Go! Go!”

“Do the thing! Do the thing! Do the thing!” Bev starts shouting at him.

The troll barrels out of the alley and right at them. Bev and Richie both hop on their bikes riding away but some cars are flung up into the air around them. Richie reaches into his pocket pulling out the amulet. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ “By the um-um. . .fuck!”

“RICHIE!”

“I forgot the words!”

“RICHIE!”

The troll is about to crash into them and Richie finds the right words and shouts, “By the glory of Merlin! Daylight is mine to command!” A blinding blue light bursts around him, it doesn’t do much to stop the troll who backhands him on his bike. He hits one of the buildings, but some armor protects him, as much as armor can do but he can already feel bruises forming. The troll wrenches a sword free bringing it down towards Richie, but Richie has his own sword. He hides behind it letting the weapon strike down, metal clashes together. He yelps while on the ground there. Bev starts to throw rocks at the troll to distract him. He glances at her, but it’s long enough for Richie to start running. He charges at Bev hopping onto the back of her bike. His is a broken mess left behind them. Great, something for his mom to be angry about.

“Go! Go!” 

Bev takes a sharp turn down a little alleyway between buildings throwing the troll off. He collides with the buildings sending massive tremors through them. Glass shatters around them but she pedals away. It leads to the opposite side, at least not one of the dead-end alleys. That would be a bummer.

“I wish I was better at fighting than getting beat up,” Richie admits.

“Same.” Bev nods.

Up ahead, shadows move. There are two large ones. Richie signals for her to keep going and notices it’s the trolls from his basement. “I know them!” Arrrgh and Blinky are there staring at him.

“Master Richie!” yells Blinky. 

“Follow them!” Richie yells at Bev.

“I’m right here, I can hear you!” She does. Blinky and Arrgh are running almost beside them as the other troll comes bursting around a corner.

Richie snaps his attention to Blinky while hanging onto Bev. “I don’t wanna die.”

“Few do,” replies Blinky.

“Canal,” Arrgh lets them know. 

“Perfect.” 

Bev heads that way and they are almost there, so close to making it there when a tremor strikes the ground. It’s as if it shatters and all of them are thrown up into the air and fall back down. Richie holds onto his face hoping not to lose his glasses, not good for battle, but apparently battle it is.

Richie sits up, his ears are ringing and his thoughts are way more of a mess, thanks to pain. Chances are, he is going to die, but Bev comes to the rescue. She drags him away, and Richie is back on his feet. Those good trolls are ahead, underneath the canal where they found the amulet the other day.

Arrgh is the one who grabs onto the two pulling them straight through a wall before it closes. Richie stands there still holding onto his face, keeping his glasses in place. He turns to look at Bev who is all distracted. It takes Richie a few times to catch his breath, he’s still staring at the wall even though everybody else has moved on.

Beside him, Bev starts touching his shoulder. “Um. . .R-R-Richie. . .”

“I could have died! We could have died. I don’t want to die!” He goes to face Blinky to start yelling at him but forgets midway because there are colors everywhere. Colorful lights are strung above their heads and while trolls begin to gather in front of them. Bev continues to reach out for Richie.

“Welcome to Troll Market, Master Richie and. . .”

“Bev. . .erly.”

More trolls continue to gather around them. There are crooked buildings all close to one another and trolls living such casual lives. One tries to push his way through the crowd to them when Blinky decides to let them know, “A human has never stepped foot here.”

Richie stands there gawking at everything. He takes his glasses off for a second puts them back on, it’s all still there and he shouts,”Holy fucking shit balls.”


	8. An Unwelcome Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Bev enter Trollmarket.

# An Unwelcome Party

It’s not like Richie is the tallest, but he’s still used to being pretty tall although he hates how skinny his legs are. Bev doesn’t seem bothered by how minuscule they are compared to the trolls around them. If Richie could focus, he would. Blinky spoke to him, Blinky went on and on and sometimes Richie found a word or two break through to his brain but all the lights and colors and trolls and he’s pretty sure he spotted a gnome a little bit back. Some tiny creatures with a red pointy hat scurrying away. Then so many trolls glare down at him muttering about how ridiculous it is a human would cross into their home.

Richie almost falls behind gawking at what appears to be a little restaurant. Trolls are there munching on trash while gawking back at him. Before Bev can get him to pay attention, some troll knocks him off his feet. An oompf escapes Richie’s lips and he fixes his glasses to look up at some giant blue troll who looks down at him chuckling.

“Fleshbags?” he grumbles. Two other trolls are behind him and also join in his laughter.

Blinky is back with Aargh while Bev helps Richie to stand up again. Blinky speaks up for the good of the order, “There is no need to worry, Draal, he is the Trollhunt. . .”

Draal’s smirk fades and his laughter is cut short. The others don’t catch on and he glares at Blinky. “How can he be a Trollhunter when he is not a troll? Human feet have never sullied Troll Market before.”

Blinky does a little shrug. “Believe it or not, the amulet chose him.”

“Yeah, so go. . .fuck yourself,” Richie retorts at Draal, not really meaning to snap because this troll can snap him in two, but words have a way of escaping his brain.

Draal lashes out shoving Richie back into Aargh who catches him. Aargh sets Richie upright and Richie again fixes his glasses, they’re about to fall off his face.

“Amulet chose,” Aargh mentions.

“Now, you need to calm down, Draal, destiny chose Master Richie.”

“Show him, Rich!” yells Bev then she looks down like she never shouted.

“For the power of Mer. . .” Richie starts.

But Blinky and Bev cut him off in unison, “GLORY!”

“Oh shit yeah.” Richie almost laughs at his mistake but instead, he gets to the point shouting, “For the glory of Merlin! Daylight is mine to command!” Light bursts from the amulet as Richie finds himself back in his armor. He makes sure he’s ready to catch his sword only to lose it again. It splits open the ground in front of him. Fuck, how embarrassing. More trolls start to gather around him. A lot of them are just whispering human or fleshbag. At least Aargh and Blinky continue to flank him and Bev. “Real fucking cool, right?”

Anger burns brighter in Draal’s eyes. He looks around to bound forward. “A human as a Trollhunter? I am Draal, son of Kanjigar. I am the amulets, rightful heir!”

Bev clenches her teeth leaning closer to Richie, “I don’t think that can be a good thing.”

“Shitballs,” whispers Richie standing there and fixes his glasses again. He pushes them back growing so nervous and he grabs onto the sword somewhat pulling it free, but not in time because Draal leaps forward reaching out to snatch the amulet. Its light glows a whole lot brighter before bursting between the two of them. They’re both flung to the side. 

Aargh catches Richie again. He has such shallow breaths as some panic takes over. Can’t fucking let any of them know. He just hangs in Aargh’s arms and pushes back on his glasses again as a telltale sign of all his fear.

“When my Father felled, the honor should've passed to me!” Draal shouts at them. “The amulet should have chosen me!

“Ok! Look, it’s not like I woke up and was like oh let me fucking steal this chance from this one guy I had no idea existed!” Richie finds his footing and joins in the shouting match. “Look! Just fucking take it or whatever!” Richie goes to grab onto the amulet to rip it free, it doesn’t budge growing bright all over again. He manages an “Oh shit” before again the light bursts out knocking them all over this time around. He even loses his glasses and sits up lost in such a blurry world. He squints at the ground around where he sits hoping to find them before anybody pays attention to this.

“The fleshbag can’t even see right!” Draal’s fury is still so loud and rumbling. Bev hands his glasses back to him. Richie puts them on hanging onto the frames as he looks over at Draal. “We’ll see what Vendel has to say about this.”

Aargh adds his usual, “Amulet chose.”

But those trolls are all gone leaving Richie behind just standing there as the armor collapses, it falls away from himself and back into the amulet. He breathes in one long deep breath before focusing on Blinky. “Um so what just happened.”

“The amulet responds to your unconscious command, Master Richie. You are at ease, are you not?”

“No, no. . .not really, I’m gonna have to say not really at all. I’m all panic.”

“How odd,” mumbles Blinky while he stares at Richie. “We’ll have to get to the bottom of this, but for now it is time for you to start mastering what the amulet has to offer.” Blinky leads them towards large gates. He’s back to talking a lot again with Richie not quite able to listen because instead, he’s gazing at a large orange, glowing crystal in the middle of the Trollmarket. “Are you listening to me, Master Richie?”

“No,” Richie responds, which is actually correct. He notices they’re in front of large gates that look more like slabs of rock. He looks up at them as they’re in the process of moving to let them all walk in. “Um what’s going on?

“The Hero’s Forge,” Blinky announces leading them inside. 

A thin footbridge leads towards another area. Richie pauses to look over the edge wrinkling his nose and Bev comes up behind him leaning her chin on his shoulder. “If you fall, you die.”

Richie looks at her smiling. “Yeah, that’d really suck.”

“Nobody would be around to feed your mom.”

“I think my mom can feed herself. She is an adult, after all.”

Bev pats him on the shoulder. “You sure don’t act like it sometimes.” And she walks off after Blinky and Aargh while looking back and grinning at him.

“She can’t cook as in technically she can cook but it tastes fucking terrible.”

“Master Richie, I want to ask you to watch your language,” Blinky says.

Richie rolls his eyes but still smirks as he looks after Bev. “It tastes flippin’ terrible.”

They reach a center area that’s almost like an island floating there. Pillars are carved on all sides of the center, it’s some sort of ring watched over by stone trolls. Richie looks at them, from one to another with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He’s gonna puke, one of these times he’s really gonna puke all over everything.

It’s as if Aargh reads the question floating around his mind. It has to be loud enough because finally the rest of his brain is quieting down. “Trollhunters.”

Dead. Trollhunters. Dead Trollhunters look over them. “I don’t want to die,” Richie mutters.

And again Blinky informs him, “Well, of course, you don’t, people often do not want to die.”

Bev changes the subject for Richie’s sake. “I don’t understand what you mean by Trollhunter because you’re trolls and Richie isn’t here to hunt you.”

“An understandable misunderstanding,” says Blinky.

“Hunt bad trolls, Gumm-Gumms,” Aargh gets to the point.

“That’s not a terrifying sounding name,” comments Bev and she nudges Richie to return to the moment.

His thoughts are still somewhat quiet thanks to one reoccurring thought about death. Death surrounds him, death is looking over him, it’s ridiculous that death is literally looking over him and there’s a chance that the one troll back there wants to kill him and when he gets back to school he’s dead cause of Henry Bowers and company then there’s also all the homework he didn’t do so his mom will probably kill him for that if he’s not already dead.

Blinky continues his role of adding to the situation with his explanation. “In Troll-speak, Gumm-Gumm means ‘bringer of horrible, slow, painful, and thoroughly calculated death.’”

Richie does the thing where he pushes his glasses back. “Yay.”

“But have no fear, Master Richie, they were exiled to the Darklands long ago, but it appears that one is free.” Blinky is so caught up in his own words, he’s walking around and talking while flailing his hands around.

“He wants to kill you,” adds Aargh.

Bev raises her hand like she is in school, but doesn’t allow the space for anybody to call on her. This does at least get Blinky to stop his muttering and flailing arms. “So the troll who just tried to kill us, is he the bringer of horrible, terrible, no good death?”

“Correct, his name is Bular and his Father and the rest of them now remain exiled to the Darklands but they have been trying to escape for centuries! I sense ill times are upon us, hence the need for us to begin. Therefore, Master Richie, training starts now!”

Bev starts to step away from Richie, he looks so crestfallen as he stares at Blinky and Aargh while stuck in the middle of the ground. This all fucking blows. Richie looks across the room at Bev who makes sure she backs away with the two trolls. If he had just stayed friends with Bill and Stan and Mike, he’d be spending this night playing video games with them and getting to know Eddie, the new kid, better. Maybe they’d have some movie marathon where he’d forget to go home and crash on Bill’s couch waking up the next day beside Eddie except he’s stuck there with some amulet that demanded him to be a hero.

Blinky touches an orb on the wall activating whatever it is they stand on. All those dead trolls looking at them and the floor rumbles underneath them as fears above begin to move. Some large blade drops down, the pit and the pendulum sort, it strikes the ground inches away from where Richie stands. He gawks at it. Rocks fly up into the air around him, all he does is shield his eyes from those rocks or really he did so to protect his glasses. Mags would be so upset if he broke them.

Richie looks as the blade swings back about to hit him. There’s no armor ready to protect him and all the words are gone and out of his head. Instead, he dives into the ground avoiding the blade. He stands up about to puke or maybe piss himself. He watches as it swings up towards the ceiling and that’s about it because this night would have been so, so, so much better lying on a couch talking to Eddie and still being friends with Bill or Stan. That’s still not life.

It’s like his heart pops in his chest and his brain decides to shut off. Richie collapses, passing out. Blinky is quick to deactivate the training area.

“RICHIE?” Bev yells.

“Master Richie?” Blinky calls out.

The doors open again and it turns out they’re not about to be left alone as an elderly gray troll enters with a walking stick made of the orange crystal outside. He makes his way across the footpath shouting to them skipping any greeting or small talk.

“I wish to meet the fleshbag the amulet supposedly selected as our next Trollhunter.” He stops and bends over a little to get a better look at Bev. He reaches a hand out picking at her red hair. “How very unusual.” He releases a curl and steps back to give her some space. “I am Vendel, son of Rundel, son of Kilfred.”

Bev points at herself mouthing a silent _oh_. “I’m um Bev. . .erly, maybe a daughter and I live with my aunt.” She looks from Blinky to Aargh, both are standing a little straighter and looking more proper. She points at Richie who is still sprawled across the platform, unconscious. “I think the fleshbag Trollhunter you want to see is over there.”

Everybody turns their attention to Richie who hasn’t budged because he’s unconscious. He’s lying there too scared to get back up. Vendel shakes his head commenting, “This is going to be a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having such mixed feelings on this maybe because of how crappy things have been and might abandon this, I might not. Either way, let me know your thoughts (maybe). Life is too much.


	9. The Norm No Longer Exists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are stories and there is pining and soon there will be way more drama.

# The Norm No Longer Exists

Eddie sits there going through Mike’s notebook not quite making any connections to what is what while Bill and Stan are busy with the oven in the kitchen. A few times Mrs. Denborough came in to check on them, but it had been awhile. All she let them know was a frozen pizza waiting in the freezer. The place smells more like burnt crust already except Eddie chooses to ignore it while flipping through the pages of the notebook.

“I’m sorry, but what?” Eddie looks up at Mike. “What’s a ley line?”

Mike sits a little close to Eddie and looks at his own notebook where he printed out maps of Derry and drew out a ley line in red marker. “Alignments where magic is stronger. There is one right through Derry.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

Both Stan and Bill return with a burnt pizza in hand with some already bent paper plates. Eddie grimaces at the pizza and instead returns his focus to Mike while Bill goes up to the TV popping in some old SNL skits he recorded for them to watch as Stan gets him a slice.

“A lot of strange happens here,” Mike admits. “Kids go missing here more than any other city or town in the United States. Same with pets. More missing pets and missing kids, can’t be good.”

Bill pauses the current skit on, is some Chris Farley one. “Can we n-not talk a-a-about this?”

Mike whispers really for Eddie to hear. “His brother went missing, too. Last seen by a sewer grate when he was outside playing one morning.”

“I-I-I’d rather n-n-not talk about thi-this. I-I recorded M-Mary Katherine Ga-Gallagher ones, too. B-Better than t-t-talking about. . .G-G-Georgie.” Bill hits play and backs up for them all to see.

Mike shrugs and gets up to grab a burnt slice of pizza for himself before pointing at one for Eddie, but Eddie instantly shakes his head. _Fuck no_. The phone interrupts Chris Farley as he’s yelling about living in a van down by the river. Something Eddie is somehow sure he’s seen too many times before. When nobody answers the phone, it rings again right away. They all look at each other. Bill sighs pausing the skit and picks up the phone.

“H-H-Hello?” he answers.

“Send Eddie home.” It’s Sonia and she hangs up right after this.

Bill looks back at them. Eddie rolls his eyes and says, “My mom?” Bill nods. And Eddie hands the notebook back to Mike. “Um thanks for inviting me over.”

Stan turns the TV off. “You can’t go alone.”

“Kids go missing here too much, we don’t travel alone,” Mike mentions pointing at the notebook. “We travel together because Losers stick together.”

“F-F-Fact.” Bill is already over there wrapping their frozen pizza up in tin foil.

In a short amount of time, they are all walking back towards Eddie’s place. The Losers have their bikes with them, but they all walk since Eddie won’t ride on the back of one. As they cut through town, Mike is there filling Eddie in on everything like he’s brand new to some prime time TV show. A Previously On section to help him catch up real fast.

“A Welsh legend states a prince set sail in 1170 and arrived to the United States or I guess what is now the United States,” Mike starts to explain. “Only when he arrived here, he was too ill to go on. He was buried but buried because he was in a state of deep sleep. Whoever wakes him will be granted one wish. I only had the chance to learn about him because he gave me a second chance.”

“Second chance?” Eddie interrupts. They’re getting closer to his home and so he slows his pace down hoping to learn more. “Second chance to what?”

Mike glances at the other Losers who all nod. He returns his focus to Eddie. “I um don’t like to talk about it, but in short, I um died but he brought me back.”

Somehow Eddie almost finds himself telling them all how he’s cursed, that he’s been cursed from the start. About how when Mike mentioned his second chance in full, a thought crossed Eddie’s mind for the first time that in the event his mother is not lying to him about killing his true love that maybe, just maybe he can strike up a deal to bring him back. 

There’s that smile again from Richie on his bike, which is so embarrassing that it pops into his head, especially around this group.

“C-C-Crap!” Bill breaks the moment, not that anybody is aware of the awkward moment Eddie is stuck in. His cheeks are bright red, but at least, everybody is looking away towards where Bill is staring. It’s Bev on her bike, she’s riding with Richie all balanced on the back, his arms wound around her waist. “I-I h-h-hate this.”

Same, Eddie thinks to himself not wanting to make the situation weird having everybody demand why he is also in love with Bev.

Bev stops. It’s her and Richie staring down the Losers and Eddie. A street separates them, but the tension is still so thick. She’s about to pedal away, but Richie releases her almost toppling off the bike. It takes a lot for Bev to stay balanced but Richie is off the bike heading towards the Losers with an awkward little wave as he looks both ways making sure he doesn’t die by car or troll.

“Hey. Hey!” Richie stops, not quite making it to the next sidewalk. He’s really staring at only Eddie and Bev rolls up beside them. “And hey everybody else. What’s um up?”

Eddie stands there unable to break eye contact with Richie. It’s the same with Richie who ignores the fact that all the other Losers are wriggling around, so uncomfortable with his presence. He’s about to ask some other questions but Eddie speaks up pretty loud like he’s shouting at all of them, not out of anger but like they’re all far away.

“I have to go home!”

“Hi B-Bev,” Bill says with a tiny wave.

She doesn’t smile at them nor does she wave. “We should get going, Rich, he also has to get home.” Bev tugs at Richie to move who is stuck there staring at Eddie. He moves and hops onto the back of Bev’s bike. “Nice seeing you all.”

Eddie shouts after them. Bev doesn’t give Richie a chance to say a better goodbye so it’s just Eddie yelling. “I-I’ll see you tomorrow, Richie!”

Bev is quick to go, breaking them all apart. Richie sits there looking back at them still stuck on the whole idea of normalcy. He could have been out there playing video games with the Losers rather than getting beat up and threatened by trolls. They turn a corner and the Losers are out of sight. Bev releases on long sigh.

“Sorry, but you get it,” Bev says without looking at Richie.

“No, yeah, full respect. They’re weird about you.” Richie sounds all distant.

Soon Bev stops outside Richie’s home. All the lights are on, which is so weird. There’s two cars in the driveway, weirder especially since his dad is no longer in the picture. Richie struggles to get off and offers up some weird finger guns at her. So out of character. Bev opens her mouth a few times about to say something but is at such a loss for words. Richie is already heading towards his house, hands tucked into his pocket and around the amulet. If this were any other life, maybe even Bev too could have joined them for video games if it weren’t for Bill being all weird about crushes.

“Richie!” Bev yells and gets him to stop. He looks back. “For what it’s worth, I think you should still ask him out. Did you see the way he looked at you?! Of course, you did, you stared at him without even blinking.”

Richie smirks and gives her a thumbs up and no additional comment. He makes his way to the front door about to open it up when the doorknob moves all on its own. Instead, he steps back to let it open up all while Strickler is there not looking out but instead back at his mom.

“Richie!” exclaims Maggie so of course, Mr. Strickler has to turn his attention to the front. Richie is there gawking at the two. “Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!”

“I don’t know! You weren’t supposed to be home, Mags!” retorts Richie.

Maggie scowls. He’s never said _Mags_ with such spite, but instead full of endearment. 

Not that Mr. Strickler knows who smiles and rests a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Ah Young Atlas, we’ve been waiting for you but alas I need to return home.” He steps out past Richie and looks back at Maggie again. “Thank you for the meal, Ms. Tozier.”

“Oh please call me Maggie or Margaret.” She pauses. “Tozier is the last name of my now ex-husband and the paperwork, I’m too busy.”

Mr. Strickler smiles at her. “Good night, Margaret. Thank you for the meal.” He leaves staring at Richie without further comment. He makes his way back indoors closing the door behind him. Bev is gone by the time Strickler is in his car and drives away.

“Where have you been?” Maggie snaps.

Richie is still looking out the window. Trollmarket. “Bev’s.”

“I called, her aunt said you both weren’t there.”

Richie turns back around to face Maggie while leaning into the door and his hand still in his pocket, holding onto the amulet. “Um. . .Bill’s. Sorry, I should’ve said that earlier. Sorry.”

“Bill as in Bill Denbrough?”

“Yeah, that Bill.”

Maggie has such a sad little smile while looking at him. “Oh sorry, are you. . .friends again?”

Richie shakes his head and starts to move away about to go upstairs. “I’m. . .tired. Good night, Mom.” 

And he’s gone, upstairs where he collapses into his bed staring at the amulet with some distant thoughts on his mind. At some point tomorrow, he’s gotta fight Henry Bowers, and not just him, but some troll, too, who saw him as unfit. He has no idea which incident he’d rather die in, but it’s about to be one or the other, if not both (somehow).


	10. Not So Much A+ Parenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie, just crushing real hard on each other, I guess. Maybe. I don't know, you tell me.

# Not So Much A+ Parenting

Eddie does his best to tiptoe into the house. The Losers are all gone. They rode off laughing as they went. Meanwhile, Eddie is left behind to not laugh or make a sound. His toes already ache and the growing anxiety tightens in his chest. His lungs feel ready to pop like a balloon with too much air. 

All the lights are off but the TV was left on. His mother is fast asleep while the TV murmurs. But Eddie can make out that it's about murder and all the children who’ve gone missing, never to be found again. Eddie continues to tiptoe across the room towards the steps. For a split second, he looks into the room to see Robert Stack reflecting in his mother’s large glasses. He’s walking around and the one talking about unsolved deaths. Eddie stays put for a few seconds longer until the screen switches to a reenactment, all he watches in his mother’s glasses.

She doesn’t move and Eddie is about to go up the steps except the first one lets out a loud, loud creak. Its noise springs all throughout the house and he groans. Eddie turns and jumps because his mother is right there, a few inches from him. Not in the room watching the TV anymore. It’s still on and everything is still pretty dark. Somehow she moved in such silence and so fast.

“Where were you?” his mother asks.

“Out, with those kids. You told me to go out.”

“You should have come back sooner. It’s a dangerous world out there, and you’re dangerous, too.”

“They all came back with me to make sure I was safe. I promise.”

His mother glares at him for a while then give in simply asking, “Did you take _all_ your medication?”

“Not yet, mother.” Eddie takes another step away. She doesn’t say anything else and he uses this chance to scurry upstairs. Each step screeching along the way.

Eddie is upstairs standing in front of the bathroom mirror taking each of his pills inside little boxes marked off for the days of his week, all curated by his mother. He opens the little mirror door to take one of his mother’s pills, too. Ativan, it’s the only thing that will help him get some sleep. He makes his way as quiet as possible to lie down in bed without getting changed. He sets his alarm for the next day deciding not to work on any homework. There is still a chance that they’ll move sooner than later. His mother can work anywhere in the United States, came with the territory of psychic services on the phone and setting up shop. 

It doesn’t feel like he slept, the alarm goes off and he hits it so fast hoping his mother won’t hear it. Eddie leaps out of bed about to get ready for school, he does so as fast as he can before taking all the pills in the bathroom. His mother left out a new note for him with a new pill bottle insisting he starts to take these as well. Most people have to see a doctor first. But apparently not him. Magic. He takes one without questioning it before realizing he forgot his bag in his room.

When he’s back in the room, he looks out the window, realizing how close he is to Richie’s place because he stands there watching Bev ride towards the house and Richie runs out to her. He doesn’t make it too far because somebody shouts for his attention.

Without missing a beat, Eddie sprints downstairs even with his mother shouting for him to stop. She is going to be furious with him because he didn’t stop. Meanwhile, outside, Richie is on the back of Bev’s bike while it looks like his mom says bye to him from the doorway.

“Hey! Hey! Wait up!” Eddie shouts as he starts to run after the two. “WAAAAIT!”

Richie looks back while holding onto Bev. “Hey, you gotta stop, Ringwald!”

“Huh?” she shouts and does giving Eddie the chance to catch up to them.

Eddie is huffing for air and needs to take his inhaler. It sort of builds up an awkward silence because he says nothing while Bev and Richie just stare at him. Once he catches his breath, he does speak up and simply asks, “Can I join you guys?”

“No,” replies Bev. “There’s not an extra seat for you and Rich’s bike is gone.”

“BEVERLY!” exclaims Richie. “Don’t be a jerk.”

“ _Richie_!” she snaps through clenched teeth. She looks back at Eddie. “Give us a moment.” Bev rides away, just a tiny bit to give them some space. “We saw him out there with Bill and those guys, I just am not in a mood to deal with anything this morning.”

But Richie hops off her bike. He starts backing up from her. “Fine. Then you can go alone.”

Bev stays on her bike at a loss for words while watching Richie walk over to the new kid. She, of course, can easily go up to him but chooses not to do so. Instead, she decides it’s best to hold a momentary grudge and rides off. Richie stops to look back at her actually surprised she’s just gone. To be honest, it’s been two days in a row now that she has left him.

“Would you fucking look at that,” he mutters before turning around to look at Eddie. “Eduardo, right?”

“Um. . .no,” he whispers.

“Eds?”

“No, it’s Eddie.”

“Whatever you say, Eds. Lost my bike so just think, you don’t have to ride it without a helmet. Less of a chance of dying.” Richie playfully punches his shoulder before they begin to walk together. He yanks a plastic bag out from his bag of cigarettes offering one up to Eddie like this is normal. “What? You don’t smoke? That’s fucking weird.”

“Ok first, it’s fucking weird that you’re like twelve and smoking and second, I heard they give you cancer.”

“So one, I’m not twelve.” Richie shrugs and pulls one from his bag and drops them back only to grab a lighter. “And two, I've heard the same thing about inhalers.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t.” Eddie has to walk a little faster to keep up with Richie’s pace. “Or did you?”

“Read it in the paper last week. New York Times, too, so you know it’s fucking real.”

Eddie pulls his inhaler back out to stare at it only for Richie to burst out laughing. He’s casually walking there and smoking like it’s no big deal all while laughing at his own joke. “I hate you.” Eddie puts his inhaler away still struggling to keep up with him. “Really, I do hate you, which is amazing because I haven’t even known you for twenty-four whole hours.”

Richie smirks. “Doesn’t bother me one bit, Eds.”

“Yeah, it does.” Eddie looks at the ground a little embarrassed by the fact he just said that. Instead, he asks a question to change up the subject. “Is your girlfriend mad at you?”

“Bev?” Richie drops the cigarette and stomps it out. “She’s not my _girlfriend_ , but my friend girl, and yeah, she’s mad at me for who knows what. Girls, right?”

Eddie shrugs and Richie playfully punches his shoulder again. This time Eddie rubs his arm while glaring at Richie, but when he realizes that Richie isn’t even looking at him, he smiles and looks at the ground again to hide his stupid reaction. The two walk more or less in silence to school. It’s all so awkward after Eddie’s question. He’s still stuck on it thinking to himself again and again about how Bev is not his girlfriend but instead his _friend girl_ , which feels oddly promising somewhere in his mind. It’s more like the thought is brewing in the pit of his stomach. That or cancer or something else like C Diff invading his intestines.


	11. First Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue gnome

# First Mission

“I don’t think you understand how important it is for me to pass this Spanish exam,” protests Richie the moment Blinky asks him, Are you listening to me? He closes his book only to realize Bev is paying close attention to everything Blinky had been saying. Richie sits there glaring at her. “Traitor. You have exams to study for, too.”

Bev shrugs. “What? It’s interesting. Like all that business with the Gumm-Gumms and the Bridge of Kilimanjaro.”

“Bev, that’s in _Lord of the Rings_.”

Bev sucks in her lower lip thinking about it. “Oh, no wait. That’s a mountain in Tanzania. It’s got nothing to do with _Lord of the Rings_. I haven’t even read those books. There’s no way you have.” Bev looks back at Blinky. “Huh, you’re right. What’s it called again?”

“Killahead Bridge.”

“Oh, I was close to that. Some great stuff there. You should listen.”

Again Blinky is about to talk but Richie groans leaning forward and burying his hands into his hands. “Blinky! I have two lives to live! I have to study and pass this exam. It’s not my fault your amulet chose a child.”

Then Richie reopens his book to looks back at his work about to study again when somebody screams for their attention. One of the trolls from the market area sprints over to them looking for the Trollhunter. Richie buries his face into his book hoping to be ignored. It’s so hard to ignore her though as she screeches about a rogue gnome, rogue gnome, rogue gnome.

“Ah Master Richie, it appears that you will partake on your first mission.”

“Can’t, homework,” protests Richie with his book still in his face.

“The cause calls, Master Richie. It’s time for us to go, a Trollhunter cannot refuse the call.” Blinky pushes his book down and Richie glares at him thinking about poking some of his eyes out. But that’d probably be pretty messed up. “Ready.”

“It’s horrible, horrible! Something disappears every minute! That rogue gnome took my monocle and my collection of bed coils,” the troll wails as she stands close to them. “The gnome has been terrorizing me all day! Dirty little pests!”

“You gotta be kidding me?” Richie squints at her and asks, “Gnome? Like, little pointy hat guys.”

“Never touch a gnome’s hat, Master Richie.” Blinky is already walking after the troll and Richie hands his textbook off to Bev. “You will have to shrink to a more reasonable size to reach this gnome.”

“Wait, what the fuck? Why can’t like a gnome catcher handle this?”

“Language,” states Aaargh and he pokes Richie who digs into his pocket to pass off some dirty sock to him.

“Hope you all know Richie is never gonna stop cursing, it’s in his genetic code to curse every five minutes. He’s an absolute jerk,” Bev says as she follows them.

“Hey! Fuck off, Ringwald!” snaps Richie.

“Language,” again it’s Aaargh poking him in the shoulder and Richie offers up a bottle cap.

“You deserved that.” Bev hugs his book to her chest. They arrive in a small shop to see a little gnome skittering past them while hissing at them. “That makes me uncomfortable.”

Richie rolls his eyes and pulls the amulet out and clenching his teeth to the point that it feels like his jaw is about to split apart. “Flor the glory of. . .” Except before he finishes the gnome snatches the amulet and is off. He just stands there looking at his palm of his hand, it’s gone. Richie looks over at Blinky and asks, “Um is that bad? It looks like somebody else will have to take my place like maybe Bev or Aaargh.”

“Pacifist,” grumbles Aaargh.

“You will need to get that back,” comments Blinky.

“Yeah, I sort of figured so I vote for Bev to do it.”

“No Trollhunter has every lost the amulet.” Still, Blinky goes on and passes off something for Richie to take for him to shrink. Richie stares at the small hole the gnome disappeared into. “What a perfect adversary to begin with, a pint-sized one.”

“Will his glasses shrink too?” asks Bev.

“That’s a good question.”

“We are about to find out,” announces Blinky.

Richie holds his glasses right before he shrinks down to a size small enough to chase after the gnome but loses touch with the glasses. They do not shrink and Bev catches them before they hit the ground and Richie is stuck there, so small but it’s not like he can see too well without his glasses.

“This is some fucking bullshit!” snaps Richie.

“Language.”

“I should get a pass this time around.”

Richie holds his hands out like he’s got his eyes closed and can’t see at all as he dramatically makes his way after the gnome, but he stops outside the little hole and turns around to flip everybody off.

Bev puts on his glasses and can’t see a thing as Richie disappears. Still, she yells after him, “You owe me a whole meal for that!”

And Blinky reminds him again, “Do not touch his hat, Master Richie!”


	12. Gnome Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I don't know.

# Gnome Time

“Trolls are real. You’re a Trollhunter, Master Richie, but we’re not gonna give you any time to really comprehend the fact that we’re not alone in this world. Next thing you’ll know there’s aliens and you’ll have to fight aliens or sewer monsters or a hundred gnomes at the same time.” The whole time Richie mutters to himself, nonstop. He can barely see the world in front of him thanks to his lost glasses. Blinky is yelling something at him. “Let me be your mentor even though I fucking suck at being a mentor and just want to make you stop fucking cursing.”

Richie rolls his eyes and stops spotting something blue and glowing right on up ahead and somebody snickering. “Fucking gnome! I see you! Sort of! I’m gonna beat you up!”

But he has nothing to really fight the gnome with down there so he scoops a rock off the ground throwing it at the dang gnome. Richie grabs another and actually hits the gnome the second time around. He sprints forward crashing into the gnome forgetting everything Blinky had said earlier about the gnome. Their bodies collide and Richie flails his hands around grasping for the amulet.

“For the! By the! Merlin! Is mine! Motherfucker!” Richie yells not realizing he hits the gnome and the hat flies off to the side. He stops and realizes the gnome stops as well glaring at the hat on the ground before growling. “Yeah! Fuck you! You fucking gnome!” Richie snatches the amulet back and falls backward. “For the Glory of Merlin! Daylight is mine to command!”

It’s a lot worse in all the darkness. The light is blinding and already he has trouble seeing but the snarling gnome launches himself at Richie but at least he has fucking armor to protect him. The gnome starts to claw at him and the sword stumbles from his hands to the ground beside him. At least, Richie manages to kick the gnome off him and he jumps up snatching the sword again even though there’s not a lot of space for him to swing it in battle. There’s also the fact that he is very weak and can’t quite lift the sword on his own again so instead, he kicks out at the gnome knocking him over.

“Hey! HEY! You! You stop that right now!” Richie yells at the gnome. “If you stop being a jerk then I won’t kill you. Hear that?”

The gnome continues to snarl at him but doesn’t make a move.

“Yeah, that’s right! That’s right! I’m the fucking Trollhunter, you better listen to me!” Richie flicks him in the face. “Let’s go.” Richie manages to corral the gnome out from the tunnel where Bev, Blinky, and Aargh wait for him. Bev starts to cheer right away. Richie fans his hands out beside the gnome while facing all of them. “Aaaaaand I’m done, I’m a Trollhunter, I’m amazing, and I need to go because I have homework. I need to grow up again for my test tomorrow, it’s an oral exam and I need to pass and it’s not even an interesting kind of oral exam.”

Bev looks at Richie. “I don’t think they have tests for that.”

“They should.”

“That doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”

“Master Richie, you will have to wait for it to wear off,” Blinky continues not really paying attention or questioning this conversation. “First, you must finish your job and execute the gnome for his crimes.”

“Execute?” blurts Richie. “That’s intense. Right?”

“No,” says Aaargh.

“No, it is intense,” Richie corrects them.

“Yeah, Richie’s right. Look at the little guy, he’s adorable.”

“Thanks,” Richie says.

“If I stomp on you, you’ll die,” Bev retorts.

“That’s no way to talk to a Trollhunter!”

“Master Jim and Beverly, there is business to finish.”

Richie looks at the gnome and the gnome stares at him. “Riiiiiiiight.”

Bev interrupts, “I know the perfect place.” Before Blinky and Aaargh can make any comment she sweeps both the gnome and Richie off the ground and starts to back away. “So great, bye. He’ll be a true Trollhunter after I’m done with him.”

“That’s inappropriate, Bev.”

“It’s true.”

Blinky yells after her. “Beverly!”

There’s no stopping Bev because she is over and out with the two tucking them into her backpack, but on opposite sides as she hops on her bike to ride away. The entire time she is pretty sure she can hear Richie cursing away at her whole the gnome makes some pretty odd noises. They’re both hidden in her pockets though as she soars through town on her bike making it back to her aunt’s house. She throws open the door and yells, “ANYBODY?!”

No response.

Bev darts up her stairs to her room tossing her bag to the ground partially forgetting living creatures are in it including Richie. “Oh shit!” she yells looking down at it as Richie makes his way out of the bag no longer in his armor but his tiny mismatched clothes. “Sorry, habit.”

“What the fuck, Bev?”

Bev puts her hands out getting him to shut up. Richie folds his arms over his chest as the gnome starts to crawl out of the bag and snatches him from the ground and plops the gnome into another bag which she ties shut.

“I can take care of this. You’re too good of a person,” she says.

“Who told you that? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A good person?”

“And you’re a bad person?”

Bev covers her face. “Richie, I’ve killed before.”

“Noooo.”

“Mr. Whiskers. He got into my chocolate once, the one you gave me on Valentine’s Day, he ate it and died.”

Richie gawks at her and it’s hard for her not to laugh at him because he is so tiny. It’s ridiculous. Also, he’s not really wearing glasses so his face looks super hilarious compared to usual. Not to mention it’s weird and overwhelming to think through Mr. Whiskers and the fact Richie gave her a Valentine’s Day present just about every year.

“But it’s from me! I killed your cat! Oh my god! BEV! You never told me!”

Bev picks him up letting him stand in the palm of her hand and again it’s all so stupid. She carried him over to some dollhouse from some old life of hers and she drops him there. “There’s a bed, I can um take care of this. Promise. Please let me help.”

“But I’m the Trollhunter!”

“Who has homework. I got this.”

Richie sighs and gives him. He backs up and instead climbs into the little doll bed passing out rather than working on any homework. Bev sits there waiting for a bit to make sure he is asleep then she takes the bag with the gnome in it and starts to walk downstairs.

“HELLO?”

No answer, her aunt is probably out for the night, working late. Bev goes into the kitchen standing at the sink turning the garbage disposal on with the gnome dangling over in the bag. She listens to the creature sob on the inside. She stands there staring down the drain then pulls back shutting it off. So Bev peeks into the bag knowing this is probably a terrible idea but she decides she doesn’t really care.

“Hey, Gnome Chomsky, you live if you shut up and behave yourself. Clear?” 

The gnome nods. 

“Good! Don’t you fucking tell Richie either, got it?”

The gnome nods.

“Good because Gnome Chomsky, this might be the beginning of a long friendship.”


	13. Goblin Got My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like goblins might be stealing children and Richie makes the unusual bold decision to run off to help, which leaves Bev behind to have a run-in with Ben Hanscom who is casually listening to New Kids on the Block.

# Goblin Got My Baby

If only Bev hadn’t woken up with a scream, but Richie growing back to normal size and shattering half her dollhouse was something you can’t just ignore. Bev sits there covering her mouth while she looks at him. Richie just is there, amulet on the ground and still without glasses. She grabs them off the table and walks over to put them back onto him.

“Oh hey there, Regular-Sized Richie,” she comments.

“Shut up.”

“Beverly!” her aunt snaps while she stands in the doorway. “What did I say about having boys over?”

Bev sits down next to Richie who pulls the dollhouse bed he crushed out from underneath him. She smiles at her aunt. “It’s just Richie, he doesn’t count as a boy.”

“Rude,” replies Richie giving her a little punch. “But it’s true, I don’t count.”

Her aunt shakes her head. “I’m not falling for that after what happened last time.”

“Hey, trust me, that’ll never happen again, trust me,” Richie informs him.

Bev actually laughs and jabs her elbow into him. “Stop it.”

“You know it’s true.”

Bev’s aunt rolls her eyes. “Your friend is the worst.”

“I know, but that’s also why I love him.”

Richie pinches her cheek. “Ah shucks, Ringwald, I didn’t know that cause I love you, too. That could’ve been real freaking awkward.”

“Just don’t be late for school,” Bev’s aunt says before leaving them.

In retaliation, Bev flicks Richie’s nose. “Watch it, Tozier, I’m your ride to school.” She gets up pulling some clothes from her drawers and tosses one over at Richie. “That’s yours.” He catches it and looks at it. His old Freese’s Department Store shirt. Bev shrugs. “I wore it home from your place that one time and never gave it back.”

“I love this shirt. I thought I lost this.”

“Whatever. You’re on your own when it comes to underwear.” She snickers at her own joke as she exits the room to change in the bathroom leaving him to change in her room, which of course doesn’t take long because he has a new shirt to wear and shoves his other stuff into his bag and goes downstairs to wait for her.

Downstairs Bev’s aunt is there pulling out a box of some cereal breakfast bars. She tosses one to Richie who catches it and he wrinkles his nose at it. There are marshmallows crushed into it. He looks up at her not wanting to say he doesn’t want it because if it were his place, he would’ve been up earlier cooking breakfast for himself and his mom.

“What’s your game, Rich?” Bev’s aunt asks.

“It’s Richie.”

“Right. Why are you here? You two don’t date.”

“We’re just friends. She was helping me with some. . .homework.” Richie watches as her aunt grabs some lunch meat from the fridge and makes sandwiches for them. Bev returns with her bag in tow and keys for her bike lock. “Bye Beverly’s Aunt!”

Bev doesn’t say her goodbyes as she darts away and Richie waves taking their lunches. Bev’s aunt rolls her eyes and yells after him, “Stop calling me that! I have a name!”

Outside Bev is busy unlocking her bike and hops on. Richie comes up behind her hopping onto the back of the bike and tucks the lunches into her bag before he holds onto her. “Tally ho, motherfuckers!”

“What? Why did you just say that?”

“Um, I don’t know. Just get going, Bevvie-Bevvie!”

Bev pushes forward and starts to ride her bike the usual way. “You better get some new bike again soon.”

“Working on it. Cut through the canal.”

“Duh!”

There’s little reason to chat as they ride off towards school. Richie holds onto Bev resting his chin on her shoulder even though she’s a bit too tall for him even with standing on the back of her bike. Something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye before they cut through the canals. They’re gliding down a hill as a goblin moves towards them than past them above on buildings.

“Bev! Bev! Bevvie! STOP!” Richie yells.

The goblin is on a different building and looks back at him hissing with a baby in hand and Richie isn’t too sure what he has to face now. Blinky would know. Before Bev can look up the goblin is gone with the baby in tow. It takes too long for Bev to even get a grip on actually stopping on the hill.

“Don’t yell like that,” she snaps at him. “You scared me.”

“A goblin took a baby!” Richie continues to yell struggling to get off the bike. He stands almost in the other lane where a car has to go around him while he looks up at building tops. There’s an alleyway cutting through the other buildings.

“The line is dingo ate my baby,” Bev corrects.

Richie looks over his shoulder at her. “What the fuck are you talking about? This isn’t a joke, Bev. I swear I just saw some goblin or troll or something take a baby. They’re taking kids!”

“Ok, but so what? We gotta go to school.”

“So what? So what?! Bev, I’m the Trollhunter.”

“And you’re a student! You’re gonna disappoint your mom.”

Some unknown expression crosses Richie’s face at this. “No, don’t you bring Mags into this. Not cool, Bev.” Rather than return, he backs away in the direction of the alleyway where he watched the goblin disappear. “Hey, you don’t have to come with me. Just cover for me.” With this comment, he starts to run off pulling the amulet from his bag, it’s glowing in his hand but he doesn’t say the words yet.

He leaves Bev behind in the bike lane gawking after him. She makes somewhat of an attempt to get his attention. “RICHIE TRASHMOUTH TOZIER!” she screams as if she’s his mother pulling out the middle name and everything. “YOU GET BACK HERE!” Except Richie is gone and some blue light spills out from the alleyway from where he went. For the glory of Merlin. This leaves Bev behind about to ride her bike forward but she whispers one more time, “You get back here.”

“Who are you talking to?” somebody questions.

Bev snaps her attention to find Ben on a bike, but on the sidewalk like some dick who never pays attention to the rules. She groans. “Fuck off, Ben.”

Ben nods, accepting this. “Um. . .can I join you? We’re both going to the same place.” He has some headsets on and takes them off to hang around his neck and Bev can just make out whatever he’s listening to in the moment. She chuckles and looks up from his headsets to him. “What? Leave me alone.”

“New Kids on the Block? Really?”

This causes Ben to blush. “Nevermind, I’ll just go. Um bye.”

Ben starts to ride off, but Bev is quick to follow up and rides beside him even though Ben stays on the sidewalk like a dick and she’s smarter by remaining in the bike lane. “Hey! Wait! No! Hold up, Ben, we gotta talk about this.” He does his best not to focus too much on her. “Because like, I love New Kids on the Block way more than N’Sync but am tied with Backstreet Boys. Don’t tell Richie that because all he loves awful stuff like Britany Spears, The Offspring, and Garbage or whatever.”

“I don’t know what any of that is except obviously Britany Spears.”

When they stop at a stop sign Bev reaches out touching his bike’s handlebar. “BEN!” This startles him so bad, he almost falls off his bike. “Ben! I might actually be in love with you. Thank you! You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Yeah. . .I don’t,” replies Ben, but he smiles at Bev and the two are off heading towards school. 

It takes a lot for Bev not to look at him and she hides her smile, too. The whole thing is embarrassing to think out of all the people in the world Ben Hanscom could get her to smile and laugh like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. Ok. I had fun with this and am about to have fun in the future and if you're enjoying this pls drop a comment.
> 
> I could use some instant gratification with how life is going.
> 
> But also stick around for some MAJOR Reddie drama oh and Georgie Denborough of course is going to play a part.


	14. Georgie Porgie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie chases after a baby only to find Georgie lost in the sewers, which is pretty strange.

# Georgie Porgie

Richie darts straight into the alleyway throwing his backpack off to the side while he holds tight to the amulet. “For the glory of Merlin! Daylight is mine to command!” Blue light explodes around him as armor finds its way around him. It clinks as he continues to run looking up catching sight of the goblin-thing again who looks over a ledge down at him hissing. A toy falls over from the child he’s carrying off and Richie tries to run faster not paying any attention. He sprints out of the alley onto the other side of the road where a car hits him.

At least the car is slow, it strikes him, not really a slam into him, still, Richie rolls up onto the windshield cracking it. The armor protects him to an extent but bruises spread. Instead, Richie crawls off the car stumbling to his feet and Strickler rolls down the window looking at him.

“Young Atlas!” gasps Strickler. “Are you hurt?” He says this like it’s a concern but fails to get out of the car.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! Promise!” And Richie takes off after the goblin still and as if this isn’t strange, Strickler rolls up his window and drives away. 

Meanwhile, Richie isn’t sure if he should yell something at the goblin but it leaps down into a sewer taking the baby with him.

This gets Richie to stop in the middle of the road where a car honks at him. He stares at the storm drain realizing the goblin is out of sight but something yellow catches his attention. He gets down on his knees looking into the drain trying to make out what else is down there. A small kid is there sobbing who looks up, tears make tracks through some dirt on his face.

Richie falls backward saying not to the kid but sort of more to the air around him. “Georgie?”

Another car honks at him and some lady yells, “Get out of the street!”

But Richie sits there looking around spotting some construction not too far from them. He climbs to his feet heading there because this appears to be a route into the sewers underneath. Gross, this was about to be the worst. If anybody saw a child in armor slip away underneath their world, nobody said anything about it. Richie climbs down the little ladder as it stinks more and more. He touches down and some of the world squishes beneath himself.

“Georgie?” Richie yells. He stands there and most of the light is his amulet. Daylight is mine to command. “Hey-a Georgie? Georgie?!” He moves along until he finds the area where light spills through and Georgie is curled up there still wearing his yellow raincoat from the day he went missing, he’d been out there back when it was flooding yet he wanted to sail some paper boat. “Hey. . .Georgie?”

But Georgie scrambles to his feet and sprints away from him sobbing. He almost slips falling face-first into the ground, but doesn’t. Georgie is able to get his footing and keeps on running away. Richie rolls his eyes and pries the amulet away from himself returning to his normal clothes.

“No! Wait! Georgie! We know each other, remember? It’s me, Richie! Richie Tozier! I’m friends with Bill.”

This gets Georgie to stop who again almost falls. He turns around to face Richie trying to wipe some tears away but spreads mud across his face, which might have some feces in it. Richie manages to not vomit, but he comes close to puking everywhere.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Georgie nods.

Maybe it’s cause he’s such a young kid that his memory sucks or like trauma. Richie tries his best to still smile at him. “But you do remember Bill, right?”

Another Georgie nod.

“Perfect! Because I know Bill and Bill, he’s been looking everywhere for you. Just apparently not down here, probably because just poop goes here, not lost kids.”

Again, George wipes his tears away adding more dirt to his face. This time Richie isn’t close to puking, he kneels in front of the kid putting out a hand. “I wanna go home.”

“Of course, let’s get you out of here.”

Georgie is so hesitant but he takes Richie’s hand and Richie begins to lead him back toward the ladder he used to get there. To be honest, he didn’t think this through, he has no idea how to handle a child. He barely knows what a kid is beyond himself and babies look more like mutants to him. Either way, he helps Georgie out of the sewers and the poor kid keeps his eyes closed because it’s way too bright out there because of the sewers.

“Ah fuck,” Richie whispers while they are standing beside each other on the sidewalk.

“Fuck?” Georgie whispers looking up at him. Confusion distorts his expression.

“Ah shit, no, don’t say that,” grumbles Richie.

Georgie looks at him.

“I could’ve sworn you could talk way more than this.” 

Richie continues to hold his hand bringing him along still not sure what the next step. The kid has been missing for some time and maybe the police would ask a lot of questions and he had no idea if anybody would be home if he brought Georgie to the house. Instead, Richie decides to make his way towards Freese’s thanks to some t-shirt inspiration.

When they make it there, he stops outside and kneels in front of Georgie. It’s a little weird because he has no actual plan and also there’s still the issue of a goblin stealing a baby. He hopes nobody really sees them out there because most people know who he is because he’s loud and obnoxious and wears glasses that are too big for his face and stupid outfits. Any witness could easily point him out.

Richie points out the store while kneeling in front of Georgie and sighs for way too long. “Please just walk in there and walk up to um a person at a counter, any person at a counter, and tell them you lost your parents.”

“I wanna go home,” Georgie whispers.

“I know, I know, I know. And somebody will take you home, promise. It just needs to be an adult and I’m just not an adult.”

Georgie nods.

“So what are you gonna do, Georgie Porgie?”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispers.

“Ok, so Georgie, what are you gonna do?”

He looks at the store wiping his tears away again unable to stop sobbing. “I go in and find a person at the counter and say I lost my parents.”

“Perfect!” Richie goes to high five Georgie who would’ve returned it, but Richie lowers his hand remembering he found a kid in the sewers. “Great. Um. . .bye, Georgie.”

Georgie nods and stumbles away to the department store and Richie continues to sit there for a bit before he gets up realizing he’s a bit way overdue for school. But for some reason, Richie considers the minor bright side of the situation: Maybe Georgie will mention him to Bill and they can all return to being Losers together rather than separate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having a bummer time so if you like anything, pls leave a comment, it'll be much appreciated.
> 
> Also like following this some major Reddie feels from like some great Trollhunters scenes with like a little tricky Changling.


	15. A Losers’ Club Divided Cannot Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Bill are still not getting along like at all but Georgie is back.
> 
> Meanwhile, Eddie is very very very awkward.

# A Losers’ Club Divided Cannot Stand

“I’m going to kill the first person I kiss or like my true love,” Eddie says it with such a straight face he doesn’t notice anybody laughing about it. When he looks up, it’s Mike who starts to laugh the most. “What? It’s true. Really! I’m cursed, I’m cursed with a curse and sickness.”

“You don’t-You don’t really believe that, right?” blurts Mike.

Stan glares at Mike. “You believe a magical Welsh prince will grant you a wish.”

This shuts Mike up who looks so serious again.

“I mean, I’m not sure, but also what if it’s true then I’m gonna grow up to be a murderer.”

It’s as if Bill hasn’t been paying attention the whole time or to be honest, it’s obvious he hasn’t been paying attention because he’s been there staring at how Bev and Ben who are apparently eating lunch together. The two sit across from each other at one of those medium circle sized tables in the cafeteria. There’s a lot of space between them yet they laugh at each others jokes. It’s so loud so that seems wrong for them to be able to hear each other.

And yet Bill pretends he’s apart of the conversation by announcing, “I’m g-g-gonna be a-a-a writer.”

“Ah cool, you should write about the murder I’m about to commit,” adds Eddie.

“I’ll help with the research.” Mike is there still laughing about this whole situation.

“I’m not helping any of you,” says Stan.

At least Bill returns to them, he gawks at the three. “W-W-Wait! What? What are you-you t-t-talking about?”

“Just how Eddie is going to kill the first girl he kisses,” explains Stan.

I never said girl, Eddie comes so close to correcting, but doesn’t because that could go so wrong.

Bill squints at Eddie. “Why-Why w-w-w-w-would you d-do that?”

This gets Eddie to groan as he smooshes his face into the table. “Ugh! No! Stop! It’s just a thing my mom says to me all the time.”

“Oh, well, my m-m-mom just t-t me to make sure I f-f-floss,” comments Bill before picking at his food. It looks like some old leftover meatloaf. “Or that vi-video g-games c-cause violence.”

“Well, you know how my mom is.”

“No,” Stan and Bill say at the same time while Mike sits there waiting for more info with a big grin.

“Psychic.” 

“Oh yeah,” they all agree, but not really in unison, it’s just so obvious considering the whole Tarot card reading and the fact that she does work as a real psychic.

“Which by the way. . .” Mike digs into his bag pulling out his notebook flipping through a bunch of pages. “. . .I think we need to go back since Bill hijacked the whole session. I still have questions about Prince Madoc.”

“Again with the Welsh prince,” mutters Stan. “Always with the Welsh prince.”

If anything is about to be said next, it’s left unsaid. Eddie sucks in his lips feeling his cheeks burn as Richie comes over to their table without a lunch and without Bev. He sits down in an empty seat with them all. Even though his glasses are perfectly fine, Richie pushes them back while looking at each Loser, but focuses a bit longer on Eddie who has to look down at crumbs on the table.

“Um hey. . .” starts Richie, his voice a little softer than usual before he returns to his normal just a bit too loud volume by saying, “What’s up, motherfuckers?”

“C-C-C-Could you n-not,” grumbles Bill.

“I need to actually talk to you, Bill,” Richie goes on. “Just you. Not those Losers.”

“I’m Eddie.” So stupid, so stupid. Eddie smiles at Richie who gives him a quizzical look in return. “In case you forgot, amnesia, it’s more common than you’d think.”

“Riiiiiiight. . .I’m gonna need you to shut up for now, Eds.”

“It’s Eddie.”

Richie goes to return his focus on Bill but instead he spots Bev and Ben sitting together across the cafeteria and raises an eyebrow. Weird things are a-happening in Derry. He almost abandons the Losers to see what the fuck is going on over there. But he does look back to see Bill is avoiding looking at any of them like Richie isn’t there.

“I think you should go, Richie,” Stan pipes up. “You’re still not really welcome here.”

“What? Fuck no, I gotta talk to Bill.” Richie pokes him. “And if you don’t wanna talk in private then I’m gonna talk in public about what I need to say.”

Over the PA system though, a lady announces, “Bill Denborough, please come to the principal’s office. Bill Denborough, please come to the principal’s office.” This causes so many students to go ooooooooooh! like they care.

Richie grabs onto Bill’s arm as he attempts to stand up. “No, wait, really! I need to talk to you!”

But Bill shoves his hand off Richie and gets up about to walk away. “L-L-Leave m-me a-alone, Ri-Richie!”

This comment doesn’t take because Richie leaps up grabbing onto the back of Bill’s shirt. “Bill! Just fucking give me a minute!”

Except this backfires because instead of being calm, Bill turns around sort of punching but more slapping Richie across the face. It’s still enough to knock Richie over and this time around his glasses are askew for all of a second before falling off his face and breaking. But Richie sits there looking up at Bill who gawks at him because he didn’t really mean to do that.

“HEY!” Bev shouts from across the cafeteria. She’s standing on her seat pointing at him. “Just! Don’t do that!” Her cheeks are all red with embarrassment matching Eddie’s who still burn, but all for a different reason. “BILL!”

The PA system goes off again. “Bill Denborough, please report to the principal’s office. Bill Denborough, please report to the principal’s office.”

Meanwhile, Eddie makes his move. He leans forward plucking Richie’s broken glasses from the ground handing them to Richie. Eddie kneels there beside him glad that Richie probably can’t see the sheer terror on his face of being so close to him, but he needs to instead act uninterested so he stands up folding his arms over his chest like this is a normal reaction.

Richie puts his broken glasses sort of on seeing that they’re broken he has to hold onto both halves before his eyes while looking up at Bill. “It’s about Georgie. . .” Bill backs away from him frowning and shaking his head. “He’s alive! I found him! In a sewer! I swear! Just go, you’ll see.”

“Sh-Sh-Sh-Shut up, Richie!” snaps Bill. A teacher walks over now rather than before when a student was hit, she puts a hand on Bill’s shoulder whispering something to him. It takes him awhile to register what’s said to him, not that anybody else hears. Bev is beside Richie while Eddie is beside him.

Bill takes off at such a fast sprint, he’s gone knocking a few people over on accident. Bev helps Richie up to his feet and mumbles, “What a Loser.”

For a change, Richie doesn’t make a smart ass comment about the situation. He holds his broken glasses to his face realizing he’s gonna have to tape them together. “It’s Georgie,” he whispers to her. Bev manages to not react to this. “But we gotta talk to Blinky about it.” This does cause her to react. She snaps her attention to Richie mouthing a what, it would’ve been so loud because she came so close to shouting the word. WHAT? Richie keeps a good hold on his glasses as he leans in so close to her. “I found him in the sewers where that thing went.”

“Wow. . .” Bev says loud enough for the rest of the Losers to hear.

Eddie awkwardly waves at them. “Um hi, I’m still um here.”

Richie smirks at Eddie. “Oh yeah, um, thanks, Eds.”

“It’s still Eddie.”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

Or like not at all what he just said not that Eddie would say this out loud. Instead, he goes, “I have-I have some. . .” Without an explanation, Eddie throws his bag onto the table knocking his lunch and Bill’s into Stan and Mike who sit there there trying to push food off themselves. “I have some. . .tape. . .but. . .medical. . .” Eddie yanks out a huge neon green pouch, which he opens up. There are alcohol swabs, bandages, band aids, and way more supplies. Gloves are included to protect himself from his blood or somebody else’s. What he pulls out his some kind of white medical tape for whatever deep cut that may occur and he hands it to Richie. “Here.”

Richie takes it still with a huge smirk across his face. “Oh cool, thanks.”

“No, wait. . .I got it.” Eddie takes the tape and touches Richie’s one hand, which startles him. Eddie meant to take it and fix the situation, but instead, Richie drops one half causing the glass to crack. “I didn’t mean, fuck, sorry. If your hands are all sweaty, you should get that checked out because you might have something like hyperhidrosis.”

Richie squints at Eddie. “Huh?” He hands Eddie his other half of his glasses and wipes his palms off on his pants. “My hands aren’t sweaty.”

“Strange things are happening,” Stan states to Mike while the two are at the table watching the awkwardness bloom between Eddie and Richie.

Eddie still manages to tape the glasses together before handing them to Richie who puts them on. Maggie is gonna be so mad, the last time he broke his glasses she cried. Maybe his older pair are still lying around his room. The prescription would be off but at least he can pretend they’re fine. Richie does some big fake smile at the remaining Losers.

“Cool, cool. Thanks. Bye, motherfuckers.”

Bev holds onto Richie’s elbow as they back away from the situation. She still has his lunch in her bag from earlier. Not that she brings this up, but it’s somewhere on Richie’s mind because at some point soon he’ll have to go off and fight some sort of monster-creature depending on what Blinky has to say about goblin-troll-monsters stealing babies and lost children in the sewers.

“My name is Eddie!” Again! So stupid! Eddie is so pissed he says these things and to make it worse he does some weird wave at them. Both Richie and Bev look back giving him such a strange look. “Ok, bye, you should still go see a doctor about. . .your hands.”

“Um bye Eds!” retorts Richie arriving back at Bev’s table to see Ben’s still there. “What the actual fuck going on today.”

“Hi,” Ben says with a quick wave.

“What? Bowers isn’t around today?”

Ben nods.

Richie plops down as Bev hands him his lunch. “I guess I’m glad I’ll finally get to know you before you die.”

“Wait, what?” Ben looks from Richie to Bev.

But Richie doesn’t shut up as he starts to eat his sandwich. “You’ll find out.”

Bev elbows Richie. “Stop being such a dick.”

There’s about no time to eat because the bell rings forcing Richie to basically inhale and choke on his food. Ben leaves so quick and when Richie looks at the other table only Mike and Stan are left without a sign of Eddie and of course Bill is off finding out Georgie is back. That is if Richie found the real Georgie earlier in the day, down their in the sewers, it all seems off especially considering they’re still learning about what else lurks underneath their feet.


	16. Times Be A Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changeling chat

# Times Be A Changing

Bev eats ice cream while she watches Richie fail again, but at least, he got a few punches in while he spars with Aargh. Although it doesn’t help that if he does get a punch in or a strike with his sword that he stops to cheer resulting in Aargh throwing him to the ground. She returns her attention to the magazine she has out flipping back through the pages to the start ready to look at it all over again. Blinky joins her with such a long sigh, he probably expects her to ask a question but instead, Bev digs for a fudge vein in her ice cream while looking at the first article in the magazine.

“Ah, I see it appears that you are investigating. . .” Blinky leans a little closer to get an idea of what magazine Bev reads.

And it’s not like she’s reading something inappropriate, but she leans forward not wanting him to see. “Just research for costume designs. Please leave me alone, it makes me nervous when people are so close to me.”

Of course, Blinky doesn’t leave, but at least he provides her some space as he keeps on talking. “Is he always like this?” 

She does look up at him, spoon in her mouth and nods.

“This may not end well.”

Bev instead looks at her magazine rather than touch that comment, but gives up. “Hey look, he’s probably just distracted after today with his whole goblin got my baby nonsense and he’s an idiot who’s in love.”

“Wait, what?” Blinky snaps his full attention in her direction.

“Yeah, some new kid, but the new kid is already hanging with a crowd that kind of hates us. I have a working theory that it’s because boys are more dramatic than girls. Can’t catch a break with them. Anyway, I mean, I’m interested in seeing how it all plays out but I feel like neither of them are ever going to ask each other out.” She looks down to turn a page. “I bet Richie dies alone.” She hesitates and looks back up to see Blinky gawking at her. “But like when he’s thirty? How long do Trollhunters usually live?”

“I was not talking about Master Richie’s love life, but instead what you said about the ‘goblin got my baby nonsense.”

Bev smiles and closes the magazine. “Yeah, no, that does make sense.” She sits up a bit. “This morning Richie said he saw a goblin with a baby so he ran after them then came back with this one missing kid. Turns out, he’s been in the sewers this whole time, which I find hard to believe.”

This information has Blinky jumping to his feet, he doesn’t even have the chance to see Richie sneaking in a good hit before he yells, “MASTER RICHIE!”

Richie looks over at Blinky right as Aargh swipes his palm into his back knocking him face-first off a platform. Bev wrinkles her nose as he hits the ground shouting a string of undetermined curses. At least, Aargh doesn’t make him pay up this time. She gets up to join them all hugging her magazine under one arm while still enjoying her ice cream. There are more fudge veins to mine out along with patches of melted marshmallow.

“Hey!” Richie climbs to his feet glaring at her. “That’s mine!” He fixes his glasses.

“I know, it wasn’t like you were eating it.”

“Was it because I was busy learning how to save all your asses?”

“You were busy, but busy getting your ass kicked.”

Aargh tries to get a _Language_ in, but Richie one-ups Bev so fast by grumbling, “Fuck you, Ringwald.”

Blinky waves the moment off. “I am sorry, but Master Bev was telling me. . .”

“Shouldn’t it be like Mistress or Lady Bev?” interrupts Richie.

“I asked for him to say master or your honor.” Bev smirks and takes one long bite of his ice cream causing Richie to just roll his eyes at her.

“Master Bev informed me that you saw a _goblin_ with a _baby_ this morning and did not think to inform me of this?”

“Oh yeah, that did happen today. I got distracted.”

“He’s always distracted,” Bev adds. “Trust me.”

“Enough from the peanut gallery, please.” And Blinky steps in between her and Richie. “Are you positive you saw a goblin carrying a child? Where?”

Richie waits a moment to collect the memory. “Um by Freese’s. You’d be proud because I ran right after him, taking the whole Trollhunter business serious, but then the dang goblin went into the sewers and I would’ve followed but there was another kid down there. One of the missing kids since last summer or it’s been a while and I made sure he could get in touch with the police.”

An uncomfortable silence lingers between all four of them especially considering the way Blinky looks up at Aargh and Aargh shakes his head. The two aren’t telepathic but sure feels like they’re sharing some info that should be for everybody.

“We. . .have a serious issue on our hands,” is what Blinky finally says.

“Cool,” replies Richie.

“No, not cool, Master Richie.”

“Cool, Richie had said with sarcasm.”

Blinky rolls his eyes, which manages to get Richie to smile seeing he has a lot of eyes to roll. “Stop this attempt at humor, we have a serious emergency at hand.”

“I don’t think babies can hurt us?” Bev pipes up walking around Blinky to join them.

“No. Changeling,” says Aargh.

To get a clearer explanation, Richie opens his mouth about to repeat the word but Blinky puts his hands over his mouth knocking his glasses off leaving Bev to catch them. Blinky keeps his hands on Richie’s face. “No, no, no don’t say it. It’s been over a century since we have had an issue like this, we are going to need to speak with RotGut.” Blinky releases Richie taking the lead. “Follow me!”

After Bev hands Richie his glasses, she shrugs for him and starts to walk. Richie shakes his head and starts to follow them, he pulls the amulet free returning to his normal more reasonable self not that most would say Hawaiin shirt is reasonable. He tucks it away into a pocket and darts around a few ambling trolls to catch up with Blinky, Bev, and Aargh.

“What’s the big deal with the whole. . .thing?” asks Richie.

“Do you know what a spy is?” replies Blinky still marching off to some location.

Richie, as usual, is distracted for a moment by the large glowing crystal in the middle of Trollmarket forcing him to catch up. He makes an attempt to smile and wave at a few trolls who aren’t still keen on the idea of a human Trollhunter. Once he’s back, he replies, “No idea, I don’t know what a spy is.”

“A spy is a person who secretly collects and reports. . .” starts Blinky then pauses to glare at Richie who is smirking at him. “You are the absolute worst.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Richie playfully punches his arm.

“Can we have a definition to the C problem?” Bev asks.

For this, Blinky stops to turn and whisper to them, “Imagine somebody who looks exactly like a human, lives as a human, but is actually a troll. Not to mention, they can go out into sunlight.” Again, he marches on.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” comments Richie. “But what does that have to do with a baby?”

“They’re replaced when they are babies when they are young, they are taken to the Darklands and the. . .remains behind and are completely unpredictable.”

To this Richie whispers to Bev, “I bet Strickler is one, it’s why he’s such a dick.”

“Beep, beep, Richie. Also, he’s a nice guy to you.”

They arrive at a shadier part of the Trollmarket, where it literally is darker with less people minding their own business as they go about their regular day. Instead, it’s pretty quiet. Richie looks back at the glowing orange crystal all of once before following them as Blinky brings them to a large door that’s bigger than all of them with clothes drawn in front of it and what looks like a tiny lookout.

“We will need a gaggletack to be sure although they are very hard to come by.” Blinky glares at Richie. “Use with caution.” He starts to bang on the door. The little lookout slides open and a set of eyes appear looking down at them. “Oh hello, we will need a gaggletack for no apparent reason at all for Master Richie here to learn about the finer weapons we have to offer him.”

Richie waves. “Hey, I’m the Trollhunter.”

“Don’t talk,” snaps Blinky.

“No,” responds whoever is behind the door and slams the window shut before yelling at somebody else.

So Bev marches up and bangs on the door getting two sets of eyes this time around to look out at her from two different lookouts. “Did you not hear us? We need a gaggletack and if you don’t abide by our request, Richie here will kill you.”

Again a wave from Richie. “I murder in the name of Merlin,” he says.

“You are ridiculous! A gaggletack, who do you think we are? We would never have such a thing.”

Bev stays put but jabs the air between her and them. “HEY! You listen here or I’ll be the one to break in and kill you, and what? Do you want to go around telling people a human killed you? Oh, wait, no you can’t, because you’re dead. Now! You are going to hand the gaggletack over to us and if I’m feeling nice, I’ll get you some gym socks from sweaty teens. Got that?”

“Understood,” the two behind the door say and pull their lookouts shut.

Bev gawks and would continue to yell but a horseshoe drops out and she yelps leaping out of the way. She picks it up staring at it before looking at Blinky and Aargh. “What the fuck is their problem?”

“Language,” Aargh says.

“This isn’t the time! We have some. . .baby issue and. . .”

Blinky takes it from her. “This here will solve our problems, this is it, a rare tool, a gaggletack.”

“Blinky. . .that’s a fucking horseshoe.” Richie takes it from him. “What am I supposed to do? Throw it at someone? Find a horse?”

Again with all the eye-rolling from Blinky. “No, you use it to see if somebody is a . . .it will force them to shapeshift into their true form.”

Still, Richie holds it up, he looks past it at Blinky. “Yay.”

“Oh shit, I bet Henry Bowers is one,” Bev adds.

“So I just take it and touch them. . .anywhere?” asks Richie.

“Correct, Master Richie.”

“Can I. . .throw it at people?”

“Nobody is stopping you,” replies Blinky. “What is on your mind?”

Richie smiles at Bev and she shakes her head. “He’ll kill you, you know that right.”

“I’m going to throw this in Henry’s face.”

Bev jabs a finger into his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“But first!” Blinky reaches out forcing Richie to lower the horseshoe a bit so they can make eye contact. “The child you found, you have to see if he is a. . .or not.” He holds onto Richie’s hand and the horseshoe at the same time while carefully watching him. “I would recommend being close enough to be sure because if there are. . .out there, we are in serious trouble. Master Richie, you are in serious trouble because we cannot protect you in daylight.”

For a change, this shakes Richie enough for everybody to see some of that fear that’s always popping around his heart. He bites his lip and he can’t even come up with a response. Blinky lets go and he’s holding onto it staring at the stupid horseshoe because somehow he needs to get into Bill’s place to find out about Georgie not to mention, there’s no telling who’se a threat. Chances are yeah, maybe some dick like Henry Bowers or Strickler are changelings but also there’s a whole chance that somebody like Bev, his mom, Eddie, or Stan are also changelings. Without comment on this, Richie pretends to smile at Bev, tucks it away, pushes his glasses back, and still without words, he decides to leave like that’s normal for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know I'm still struggling to write but there's a scene I wanna get to then take a mini-break.


	17. "Sneaking" Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler on our way to some exciting scenes

# “Sneaking” Out

Eddie creeps down the steps deciding not to care about how they creak all the way down. There are voices coming from the kitchen as he’s on his way out. The door is close, but not close enough. Each voice stops for an EEEEDDIE to rise up and out from there. He doesn’t make it and leaves the front door behind to enter the kitchen where his mom sits with a guest.

“Come sit down, Eddie,” his mother says with Tarot cards spread out across the table top.

“I thought this was supposed to be private,” the guest asks.

“I’m stronger with him around.” Sonia clears her throat preparing for the next steps. “Ask a question you are looking for answers, do not say it out loud and then select three cards.”

The guest there stares at the cards and she pulls one free before she pulls two more letting Sonia reveal them. Two of Cups, Temperance, Page of Pentacles.

Eddie leans a little closer, his mother holds onto his one hand and his thoughts are loud asking questions of his own. His heart beats a bit too fast and he leans forward trying to hide the fact he’s blushing a bit because it’s ridiculous as his mind asking questions about Richie.

Sonia peers up at the woman. “Two of Cups, up right. This one is about unified love and attraction. This shows a man and a woman sharing a cup and is a sign of a union based on mutual attraction, you and this person are on the same wavelength.

Sonia turns her attention to the next card not minding Eddie’s grip tightening a little on hers. “Temperance, reversed. There’s an imbalance in your life.” Even though Sonia is speaking to her customer, Eddie is close to agreeing with her on this. Yes. “You can consider this a warning, something is not right, something is off and causing tension in your life. You need to take a moment to evaluate this because whatever is causing this imbalance will get louder and louder.”

How do I know what it is? Eddie is again close to interrupting.

But it’s good to have Sonia moving on. “Page of Pentacles, upright. But this is good because this means you are about to welcome new beginnings. Once you find balance, you will start to learn to ensure long-term success by achieving whatever it is you have on your mind.”

Sonia’s done and the three are quiet taking it all in when her guest says nothing Sonia asks, “Is this about a boy in your life?”

Eddie leaps out of his seat and looks at Sonia. “I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” Sonia asks. “It’s getting late.”

“I know, I’ll be back for dinner. I promise.”

Sonia signals for the guest to hold on as she turns to look at Eddie, her glasses magnifying her eyes as she stares him down. “You know that is not what I am worried about. It is your health that I am worried about.” She looks over at the woman sitting there. “We recently learned he has a sugar allergy, which keeps me up at night.”

“A sugar allergy? I’ve never heard of a thing?” She looks over at Eddie. “I’m so sorry.”

None of that’s true, Eddie wants to say. He sticks to his immediate goal instead. “I have to study for a test and Bill, my friend, helps me study so. . .my heart doesn’t hurt from stress.”

“That’s beautiful,” the woman says.

“Be back in two hours,” Sonia says, “that should be plenty of time to study.”

“Great, thanks.” Eddie is about to dart out of the house but Sonia isn’t done talking yet.

“Eddie!” And he stops to look back at his mom. “His parents will be home, right?”

“They will. You can call them, too.”

“Write the number down.”

Sonia doesn’t say anything else because she turns to her guest to continue talking about the Tarot cards while Eddie jots the number of Bill’s house phone down on the fridge before he takes off. Nothing can stop him this time. Sonia is busy. And he’s gone, free. Eddie makes it across town without any problems, no inhaler needed, which is a sign of a good night and he thinks of his mom’s Tarot cards out on the table. Two of Cups. Temperance. Page of Pentacles. He’s knocking on Bill’s door and he opens it after the third knock.

“H-H-H-Hey E-Eddie.”

Eddie waves. “I’ve got two hours, that’s it.”

“O-Ok.” Bill steps to the side letting Eddie enter. Somewhere somebody is playing Fur Elise on the piano and he wrinkles his nose at this, it’s a little too creepy. “Th-They’re ups-s-stairs. We h-have Ch-Chrono Trigger and-and S-Stan b-brought Super-Super M-Mario Bros over.”

“Don’t know what any of that means,” replies Eddie about to follow where Bill pointed at the stairs. “But I’m guessing video games.”

The piano playing stops and Bill’s mom comes around the corner to look at them. “Bill, you sure you’re ok with staying home alone with Georgie?”

“Y-Y-Yes.” He points at Eddie. “M-My f-f-f-friends are here, too. This-This-This is. . .”

“Eddie,” he finishes up and smile at Bill’s mom. “Hi. I’m new.”

“Your dad left money on the kitchen table for pizza. Make sure Georgie eats. He’s still sleeping.” She pauses for a bit only to ask again, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Yes! G-Go.”

His mom sighs. “Ok, ok, well, thanks. We’ve had this planned for awhile.” 

She’s about to talk for a long time about something neither of them cared about. Bill pushes Eddie away to go upstairs. The door to Georgie’s room is wide open. Eddie pauses to look in there curious about the whole return of a missing kid ordeal, but Bill shoves him forward. All Eddie spots is a little turtle made of LEGOs by Georgie’s bed. They go across the hall into Bill’s room to hang out on his bed with a mini television set and a Nintendo. Mike and Stan are already there chatting about something while looking through character options for Super Smash Bros.

“E-E-Eddie’s h-here.”

“Hey,” both Stan and Mike said too busy looking at their games.

Eddie sits on Bill’s bed kicking his shoes off before looking at the TV. He didn’t even bring any homework and just camps out there ready to enjoy time instead. 

Before Eddie realizes it, he’s speaking some thoughts out loud as Mike and Stan get ready to play Super Smash Bros. “So what about Richie?”

“Wh-What abou-out Richie?” Bill looks at him and the other two don’t even start playing to turn to see what’s about to be said.

“Oh, um, I don’t know. He was just so weird earlier.”

“Don’t talk to him, he’ll annoy you to death,” says Stan. “Trust me, it’s how Chris died.”

“Chris?” Eddie gawks at Stan.

“No, I made that up.” Stan returns about to play the game with Mike ignoring the rest of their conversation.

Once the two start playing, Eddie sits there not really sure what to do seeing he’s not playing, just sitting around growing bored. “How’s Georgie doing?” he asks Bill.

Bill shrugs. “H-H-He ate a sock ear-earlier.”

“Oh, so not good.” Eddie leans back into the wall looking at the screen. “Did he throw it up later?”

“N-No, but then he-he tri-i-ied to eat a spoon.”

“I was there, I saw it,” Mike says right before cursing as he briefly lost to Stan.

Bill and Eddie stay quiet watching the two play but they are out there still cursing the whole time. At some point, Georgie enters the room yawning and rubbing his eyes. He looks at them and everybody stops to stare back.

“I’m hungry,” Georgie whines.

“I-I-I’ll or-roder a pizza.”

Bill goes to stand up but Eddie jumps off the bed. “I’ll order it.” He wants to move around and get out of there for a bit. “What kind?”

“Peperoni,” both Mike and Bill say.

“Or cheese? Just cheese?” asks Stan.

“I’ll get a cheese pizza.” Eddie walks off heading down the stairs. The whole time Georgie is standing there staring at him and he thinks about asking him a question but doesn’t. Georgie moves to the top of the steps to continue watching Eddie move away. Weird. But he has no idea what little kid weird would look like especially from one who has apparently been living in the sewers for sometime now.


	18. The Kid's Not Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgie's acting weird.
> 
> Stan, too.

# The Kid’s Not Alright

Eddie’s waiting on the phone for somebody to answer not sure why he volunteered to order pizza. It’s not like he’s ever ordered food before. Literally, he’s never ordered food before. His mom always feared if he spoke on the phone its radio waves would melt his brain. But that’s not even how phones worked, he looked it up later in life.

As soon as the person answered, Eddie, hangs up. Sonia wants him back before dinner anyway so it’s best for him to either lie or get somebody else to order. Beside him, there’s some rummaging and he looks over to see Georgie picking through a drawer, he plucks out a fork and takes a huge bite out of it while staring at Eddie.

“Oh, um, hi.” Eddie stares as Georgie takes another bite of metal. “I’m. . .Eddie, the new kid.”

Georgie chews on the last bit of fork.

“Would you like. . .” Eddie reaches over to a big metal soup ladle next to the sink. “Um, this looks more. . .filling, but I really don’t think your digestion system can handle that. . .”

Georgie takes it and walks away like nothing real fucking weird just happened. Eddie continues to stand there wondering if maybe he should sneak out and go home when he hears another sound. Stan clears his throat as he stands in the kitchen threshold. Opposite of the way Georgie just went.

“Are you ok?” Stan asks.

Eddie nods.

“When’s the pizza coming?”

“The line was busy. We can call again later.”

Stan watches him and Eddie doesn’t do anything while he continues to stand in the same spot. Maybe he should tell them about how Georgie’s eating the silverware again. That doesn’t even strike him as a habit picked up by a kid with sewer PTSD. But right now, he’s gotta deal with Stan hanging around watching him. He is a stranger still or somewhat of a stranger.

“Can I ask you a question?” Stan asks as if that’s not a question itself.

“Do you mean, can you ask me another question after that one?”

Stan nods.

“Ok.”

“You and Richie are in the school play together?”

Eddie nods. Romeo and Jules apparently.

“Why are you always asking about him?”

Eddie shrugs. This isn’t happening. Please don’t let this interrogation be happening. There’s still some time to flee. “I don’t know. He was the first person who spoke to me.”

“But we’re your first friends.”

“I mean, yeah, but. . .”

Stan continues, “But what?”

“Is there a problem here?”

Stan shakes his head. “No, it’s just weird.”

“Ok, that’s good and all but I have to get home soon. Sorry, my mom will flip out if I’m not back in time and then no more friends with anybody. Not you. Not Richie. Nobody here.”

“No, problem.” Stan backs up. “I’ll go tell Bill and. . .”

Eddie squints at Stan trying to figure out what’s going on with this guy but he sure as hell can’t get a good read on his expression. All of Stan is a question mark one who seems mad, sad, and maybe even glad all at the same time. 

“And what?”

“And we’ll leave with you? What? Do you wanna walk home alone?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, wait. . .but what do you really wanna say?”

“Bev’s great and all but I get it just. . .I don’t know, we’ll all be down in a minute.”

“Ok.” Stan goes to leave but Eddie interrupts him again. “Oh! Georgie’s eating the silverware again.”


	19. This is How We Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie gets in trouble

# This is How We Do It

As far as Richie knows it, music isn’t outlawed in Troll Market. With some giant headphones on he decides to go for a run, a long run, as in a long run doing several circles around that whole training area Blinky introduced to him. Though Blinky and Aargh are out of sight and he skipped out on Bev earlier not wanting to talk. And if anybody knows Richie, they know it’s not good news if he’s out and around not wanting to talk.

He’s several laps in and still listening to all of Enter the Wu-Tang after tucking it into his discman. It’s skipping on occasion but if he focuses hard enough, he won’t notice. That’s just how his brain works. 

Focus on other shit. 

Focus.

Time to focus.

Focus on things like how he’ll probably die soon. Slaughtered by some monster or a gnome. 

But wait, also, did gnomes slaughter people? That one gnome he fought sure was fucking tough. So maybe another gnome could rip his throat out in his sleep wanting to become the Trollhunter next. Imagine, a gnome Trollhunter. The very idea makes him chuckle. Thought it was shocking a human could be a Trollhunter? Wait till Troll Market gets a load of a gnome Trollhunter all angry and attacking when Bular or whoever touches his hat and were gnomes like born with those pointy red hats? Or did they buy hats? Was there a hat store in Troll Market that just sold hats to gnomes or did they have to make them out of some felt or something? Maybe it was a right of passage like when kids did their bat mitzvahs. Or was it bar mitzvahs? Or was it both as in one for women and one for men but what if you weren’t either, then what? Also wasn’t Stanley Uris supposed to have one? Would he even get an invite if Stan has one? One time Richie accidentally kissed Stan. By accident. It was hard to explain. But he thought Stan had been drowning and went to perform CPR. It was far from drowning, which was embarrassing. They still talked after. For a few years after until they no lingered talked anymore because of what? Bev? It’s not like they ever kissed well ok, different story, very different story. One they both try and forget even with seeing and wanting to hang out. But anyway. That’s off-topic because what about gnomes? What about them?! He’d have to ask. . .

**BAM!**

Richie’s KOed on accident. He hits the ground and his glasses and headphones fly off. The discman pops open and there goes the Wu-Tang Clan. He lies there groaning looking off at the side at the broken disc before getting his glasses glad they somehow didn’t even crack. A miracle. Not a miracle considering the other half of the situation. Richie sits up fixing his glasses to find Draal standing there cracking up. He’s a gigantic hunk of blue troll. There’s a few other trolls behind him.

“How is he going to protect us if he can’t even see what’s in front of him?” Draal booms as his two troll friends start to laugh. It’s all belly laughs and gives Richie a headache right away. Even though Richie’s already down, Draal flicks him knocking Richie back down flat on his back. “He’ll run himself right into being impaled!”

The other trolls continue to laugh. “I bet he pisses himself to death at the sight of Bular.”

“I give him two minutes.”

Richie reaches out grabbing onto his discman saying one loud thank you in his head before chucking it at Draal’s face as he gets back on his face. The thing shatters, blinding him for a second. Draal bellows covering his face and Richie glares at him.

“For your information! _I_ was DISTRACTED!” But this makes the two other trolls laugh while Draal grits his teeth, holding a hand over his one eye. “I was trying to figure out how gnomes get their little hats. SO how do they? I hope you got some big brains with those big muscles and know the answer!”

All the trolls shut up until one of them whispers, “How do they?”

“RIGHT! My main theory right now is that they make them when they become adults. What do baby gnomes even look like? Shit, do you think they got fucking birds? Like are they born from-from a vaginal canal with beards?!”

Other than Draal, the trolls shrug. Good. He’s got them. But also. Answers would be neat. Except Draal straightens his shoulders seeming to grow even taller and like yeah, Richie’s tall, for a human. He’s short as fuck around all these trolls and Draal’s got six sets of horns. Those themselves could do the job, skewer Richie right on the spot. His muscles were enough to cause death by blunt object.

Also, more important, how did trolls have sex? Did they have similar _parts_ to humans and other animals? A lot of them appear to wear clothes like humans and what other purpose do clothes serve other than like to hide your penis or whatever. 

“Is your duty a joke to you? That you think you can claim this power and show up here to make jokes about gnomes?”

“Ah shut the _fuuuuuuck_ up!” Richie shouts. He pulls the amulet from his pocket and throws it at Draal’s face. “If you want it then just fucking take it already! I have a Spanish test to study for because no lo hablo!”

Right when Draal goes to catch the amulet as it falls, it bursts out of sight. Blue sparkles around his palm and it ends up back with Richie who sighs.

Draal tumbles forward looking ready to back hand Richie who guards his face with both his hands and lifts his one leg up like that’ll help guard his nose. Stupid. Now he’s on one leg and bad at balancing. But no strike comes. Instead, Draal gets so close his stinking breath probably burns all the little hairs of his nostrils.

Richie keeps on one foot curling into himself. Draal growls. “I’ll drink to your death tonight.”

Slowly, Richie lowers his hands with his one leg up. It’s not like he could get a good kick in. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You and me, fight for glory tomorrow in the hero's forge.”

Richie plants his foot on the ground. “No, no, I’m too busy then.”

“What? Are you a coward?”

Richie shakes his head. “No. No! I’m busy! Rain date?”

Draal shakes his head. “No. Richard Tozier, we fight tomorrow whether you run off as a coward or not.”

“Oh.” Richie looks down. “I gotta-I gotta. . .go. Prepare. Elsewhere.” Richie pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Bye. Um! I’ll see you. . .tomorrow then.” Richie takes a big step back. More trolls are watching as Blinky makes his way towards him yelling something along the lines of _Master Richard_ but nope, nope, nope, a lot of nope. “Ok. Bye. See you tomorrow for death day. . .so. . .BYE!”

Blinky never makes it and Richie is gone, he’s running out of Troll Market without any of his stuff. Besides his mom is probably wondering where he is by then. It’s impossible to know the time. Richie just sprints. Not that fast cause he was out there running for awhile and his muscles are all tired and he’s gonna have to start fighting actual trolls, actual monsters and he isn’t even ready to fight Draal who is allegedly not his enemy wants to kill him tomorrow night.

He might die. Die before he finds out how those stupid fucking gnomes get their hats.

Shit.


	20. Win or Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some time along hanging out with Bev.

# Win or Lose

Bev holds the horseshoe or “gaggletak” as if she’s Rafiki on Pride Rock. Gnome Chomsky is sitting on some doll furniture in her little doll house. He claps for her presentation. Next Bev does her best Vanna White to show it all off to Gnome Chomsky going huh, huh? Still her gnome friend flaps his hands.

“So we’re supposed to use this to learn about changelings.” Bev pulls up a seat and sits there looking at him. “Do you know any. . .changelings?”

Gnome Chomsky squaks as he shakes his head.

“Yeah, I guess the same but also not the same because I have no idea.”

Gnome Chomsky nods a whole lot.

Downstairs her aunt comes home. The door snaps shut and she yells up the steps. “Bev? Are you home.”

Bev stares at her door realizing she can say yes or sneak out before her aunt asks her to do the dishes or something. Like any reasonable kid, she stuffs the gaggletak into her backpack then puts her palm out for Gnome Chomsky and mouths _Come on_. He jumps onto her hand and she helps him into her side pocket where a water bottle goes. As soon as Gnome Chomsky gets all comfy, he nods and Bev opens her window climbing out onto the top of the porch that goes out above their front porch. Out there, she pauses looking over at Richie’s place but the lights are off. 

Looks like his mom is just getting home because she’s right outside the car. She pauses waiting a moment and Richie’s mom spots her right there. But Bev nor does she wave. They sort of stare at each other. Richie’s mom hits the lock button on her keys and hurries into the house.

But Richie’s not there.

Where the fuck is Richie?

Before her aunt could find her outside, Bev hurries over the side of the porch using the vines to help climb down the gutter. As soon as her feet collide with the ground, she scoots off on her bike. It rolls off and Bev looks over her shoulder all of once. Just in time to see Richie’s mom step back outside again looking at her probably wondering where her son is. The same question on her mind. The two are inseparable and _yet_ Richie’s MIA. It doesn’t stop her from rolling down the street heading towards “downtown” Derry to hang out. Maybe she’ll spot somebody to hang out with.

The entire time Gnome Chomsky chatters away while hanging out in the side of her bag. None of it makes sense. His voice is pretty caught up and lost on the wind while she pedals and pedals away passing the familiar sights of Derry from Paul Bunyan standing there to the pharmacy to Ben Hansom. She squeezes her brakes almost flying off the front. _Ben Hansom_! Bev stares at him after the tire screeches no longer speeding across the pavement.

Those squealing tires catch Ben’s attention. He’d been out there looking at some movie posters with his hands in his pocket only to look at him instead. Ben looks left and right before focusing on Bev inhaling deeply then waves. Still, Bev hangs out on her bike staring at him without waving but at least Gnome Chomsky is quiet. At least, Ben stops waving. He sneaks his hand back into his pocket again.

“What are you doing here?” Bev blurts.

Ben points over his shoulder at some of the posters. “Thinking about seeing a movie, thinking about maybe. . .” He pauses and looks back only to slowly reading off the title. “ _I was a Teenage Werewolf_.”

“It’s a good one.”

“Oh?! You’ve seen it?” Ben’s cheeks turn a little red and he looks at the posters again. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s a Richie movie.”

“Oh! Richie. . .right, Richie! Richie Tozier. Trashmouth. Richie Trashmouth Tozier.”

Bev’s fingers tighten on her handles. “Yeah, that Richie. He likes bad movies. It’s-It’s a whole thing. Crazy, right?”

And Ben ends up walking to her a little closer. Somehow he manages to dig his hands even deeper into his pockets while bouncing on his feet. So many jitters. “We could see a good movie then. . .like. . .” He has to pause looking back at the posters. “. . .I don’t know, something else.”

Except Bev grins. No words come up as she stays balanced on her bike. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Bill. It looks as if he were about to turn a corner and keep going when he sees Ben and Bev chatting with each other making it a lot harder to speak. Stan and Mike come to a stop beside Stan along with that new Eddie kid. At least she and Ben look over at the group.

“M-M-Maybe another time,” Bev comments, looking back at Ben before past him at the posters. “When there’s better choices out.”

“Yeah?” This gets a huge smile from him.

“Yeah.” Bev pumps her bike’s brakes even though she hangs out there not moving. “I’d get in so much trouble if I watched that werewolf movie without Richie anyway.”

Speak of the devil. . .

“HEY RINGWALD!” Richie screams as he races out of the creepy Paul Bunyan area. There’s lots of dirt in his curls and he’s out of breath by the time he starts to catch his breath. He’s looking down before noticing that Ben is there. “Sorry. . .is this guy bothering you?”

“No, he’s. . .ok.” Bev smiles at Ben. “Really.”

Ben does a quick wave before stepping away so he can escape into the theater. The whole time Bev watches him still smiling as her cheeks start to burn. Great. Richie’s gonna make fun of her. Or he’s oblivious as fuck. “BEV! They’re playing my movie! We gotta go. . .” Whenever he was going to decide doesn’t come out and he looks at her. There’s also dirt smeared across his face, it’s not just caught up in his hair. The kid’s a mess. “We gotta talk.”

“About what?”

“Death.”

Bev looks around realizing the Losers and Eddie are still keeping an eye on them. They’re doing a bad job of acting normal like they’re also looking at some movie posters. She looks at Richie. “Don’t you think that’s a little dark.”

“Darker than dark, we gotta talk about my _death_.”

“Wait!” Bev climbs off her bike. She holds on tight, almost stepping on his shoes. Making sure they’re both so close. “Wait! Rich. . .what are you talking about?”

“Draal.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Richie fixes his glasses slowly noticing their audience. It’s mainly Stan and Eddie’s who’s looking at him. He stops staring at them. Eddie scurries away forcing the rest of them to chase after him. It isn’t until they’re gone that Richie finds some words again. Not even looking at her, he’s still hanging out there, looking off in the distance.

“The battle-The battle with Draal.” Richie looks at her. “It’s a fight to the death. I have a fight, a whole actual fucking _fight_ to the death with a fucking troll!”

Bev whispers, “ _Shiiiiiiiiit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I didn't have it in me to work on this project after being sick for a few months _and_ school and like everything else. So I have a lot to update and also then a lot outlined that I went through, reread what I wrote and re-outlined.
> 
> SO! Yeah. I'm sorry.
> 
> If you're still here and liking this, please let me know otherwise if you hate it, please forever hold your peace.


	21. Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and his mom get in an argument.

# Later

Without a discman, Richie plays his music out loud. It’s pretty low but filled with enough anger. The Beastie Boys singing. _Sabotage_. There’s no knock on the door. It pops open and there stands his mom looking at him. Richie sits up. He forgot to shower. Got so much dust and dirt and who knows what else from Troll Market in his bed.

“Turn that off.”

“C’mon, Mags, it’s quiet. You can’t even here it in the hall.”

“ _Richard Tozier_! Stop calling me that.” Maggie sighs as she shakes her head. “Listen with your headphones.”

Richie grits his teeth.

“What?”

“So. . .it broke. . .” Richie returns to clenching his jaw and doesn’t get out of bed. It’s Maggie who marches across the room pulling the plug out and making them sit in some quiet. “It-It was an accident, I swear.”

“Like your glasses?”

Richie fixes them. “I mean, yeah, I’ve never broken a pair on purpose that’d be flat out stupid.”

“Stop it.”

Richie looks around the room, jaw ajar. “Um, stop what?”

“Having-Having a bad attitude! It’s inappropriate the way you speak to me.”

“Um. Ok?” Richie scowls at her.

“Where were you today?”

Again, Richie scans the room as if that’s his answer. “I don’t. . .I was with Bev.”

“Then why did I see her sneak out?”

But he doesn’t have an explanation because he has no idea what she’s even talking about. Mags shakes her head about to start shouting something when the best excuse is already all lined up and almost so easily forgotten. So forgotten. It might not even be true.

Richie blurts, “I’m in the school play!”

“Why are you lying to me?”

Richie groans. “No! Really! I’m in the school play!”

“You- _You’re_ in the school play? What part?”

“Um, Romeo like Romeo from _Romeo and Juliet_.”

“What? What other Romeo would you be?” This almost gets Maggie to laugh. It’s her own joke but at least her mood appears to be changing.

“The Leonardo Di Caprio one.”

“Richie, _that’s_ the same play.”

“But they have guns! Didn’t Shakespeare live at a time when they like only had bows and arrows and shit?”

“It’s still _Romeo and Juliet_.”

Richie mouths _oh_.

Maggie sighs. “Who’s Juliet? Is it Bev? That’d be cute. You two are so cute together.”

“Noooooo. . .” Richie trails off thinking about how weird it is. When did he even accidentally audition without an audition but turned Britney Spears into spoken word and Eddie caught on. The new kid being all weird and hilarious right off the top yet hanging out with a crew who doesn’t want to speak with him but to avoid him at all costs yet spied on him earlier in the night. “No, we’re changing it.”

“How are you changing _Shakespeare_? That has to be blasphemy.”

Richie and Maggie stare at each other until he chooses to look at his toes instead. “Um, like, it’s gay now because it’s like you know gay to be in a play.”

“That’s not funny, Richie, that’s homophobic.”

“It’s not even a joke. I really mean it, it’s gay. Like super gay!”

“ _Richie_ , we’ve been over this before. Be respectful.” Maggie pauses. “Also, you’re grounded.”

“GROUNDED?!” Richie jumps out of bed. “But why?”

“Lying, breaking another one of your things, having an attitude, and I’m sure I can come up with something else.” Maggie knocks on the doorway looking at him. “And Richie. . .”

“What?” he snaps. “Also! I didn’t even actually lie to you! You’re being a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

Maggie huffs shaking her head. “Richie! You said you were with Bev but you weren’t.”

“But I WAS! We hung out after play practice, I didn’t even lie. She probably just snuck out to meet with me to avoid talking to her aunt. I don’t fucking know. I’m not Bev.”

“Richie! Language!” 

“Whatever.”

Maggie tosses her hands up. “Fine. Fine! You know what? You win! You’re ungrounded, but we’re gonna have another conversation about you not taking care of your things. That’s not ok.”

“It was an accident! I swear! Somebody-Somebody caught me off guard. Some bully.”

“Are you being bullied at school?”

Richie rolls his eyes. “When haven’t I been bullied?”

“Look, Richie, I. . .I-I need to get some sleep. It’s another long day for me at the hospital tomorrow. Just please, please don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not even lying!”

“Promise me?”

Richie sits on his bed feeling all painted in a corner or some shit. Ok, he told her a lot of truths just now. Really, he really did. Except he’s going to have and lie to her a lot more. It’s not like he can come out and be like _Oh hey mom, I’m a Trollhunter_. 

That has to be an ok lie, right? 

Something about her though. She looks so crestfallen as she stares at him. When he doesn’t say anything else because the current existential crisis is very real. Maggie leaves. Leaves him alone in his room. Richie sighs and goes over closing the door, locks it before collapsing on his bed with the book Blinky gave him. Time to learn. Time to learn a lot. Problem is, he’s gotta focus. Caffeine helps him focus but his mom would have something more to say when he got up to go to the kitchen.

Just focus, focus, focus. Still, he was curious about the whole troll sex thing.


	22. For Those About to Die, We Salute You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie leaves some awkward note for people because he's probably going to die.

# For Those About to Die, We Salute You

“RICHIE!”

Out of all the times! Literally out of all the times his alarm clock didn’t work, it had to be when his mom was super pissed. Richie groans into his pillow close to screaming as many expletives that come to mind. The type that might make Maggie blush and get angrier. _Attitude problem._ He rolls out of bed, pauses as he looks at the clock and like shit he’s about to be real fucking late to school again.

“OK!” Richie yells back to his mom. “JUST! Give me a minute!” 

He scrambles around for some clothes but all his clothes are on the floor and dirty. None are in his drawers unless he wanted to wear some old shit from grade school. Instead he grabbed a dark white shirt off the ground and a pink Hawaiian shirt for on top. Jeans. Chucks. Time to go. But first! He brushes his teeth looking in the mirror. Another thing Maggie hated was how he always called white shirts ‘dark gray.’ She’d also have something to smell if he stank but too late to figure that mess out.

Richie slings his backpack on and stumbles down the steps and like holy fuck. His bike is broken and Bev’s probably already gone, too. She better be gone ‘cause he’s about to arrive twenty minutes after the bell.

Maggie’s standing by the door. She holds up her keys. “Ready?”

“You’re-You’re driving me. . .to school?” Richie stares at her while gripping the straps to his bag. “Even though I’m a little shit?”

“I’m going to start a swear jar so I can be rich.”

“Well, I’m poor so it’d be a lot of _I owe yous_.”

Maggie doesn’t smile. Just shakes her head. “You’re too much sometimes. Let’s go before I’m also late to work.”

“Right, right.” Richie sighs as he follows her out to the car. He climbs into the passenger seat and drops his bag. 

Meanwhile, Maggie hands her purse to him. “Put that where it’s not on your feet.”

“Yeah.” 

As he hangs onto her purse, he does his best to slip an envelope out from his bag into hers. It just says **Mom** on the front. Inside’s some shitty attempt at actual emotions. None of it’s good but starts with one giant: **I’m sorry for disappearing on you like this**. Richie jams it down deep into her bag hoping she’ll find it around lunch time or later ‘cause by then nothing’ll stop him. By then, he’ll be at Troll Market about to die. **I promise it’s nothing like dad. I don’t have a second, secret family anyway.**

Even though Maggie’s already driving, she glances a few times at Richie now that he’s putting her bag down. “Did you-Did you take some of my cash?”

“What? No!”

“Show me your hands.” Maggie slams on the brakes at a stop sign and Richie almost faceplants on the dashboard.

Richie just shows her his empty palms. “What? No! I didn’t.”

Maggie stares at him. “Rich. . .I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

**Things got really weird and all supernatural and paranormal and ~~shit~~ so on. I swear. I can’t explain it though. You wouldn’t believe me.**

“But no really, I’m-I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” Maggie starts to drive again and Richie sinks into his seat letting her take him off to school. There’s no conversation and no music in the car. Once at school, Maggie parks in the drop off circle. “Do I need to come inside with you?”

She barely gets all those words out because Richie’s already climbing out. He peeks in at her and shakes his head. “No. Fine. Bye. Thanks for the ride.” Richie pauses. Maybe he should say something a whole lot nicer to her because shit, he’s about to die. But he can’t. Why he tried at the whole letter writing thing and pops the door closed and goes inside about to face the wrath of administration staff or whoever the fuck sits in the front office.

**Anyway, I’m something called the Trollhunter and a lot of people didn’t believe in me because why would they? So now I’m dead and I’m sorry about that. ~~Please don’t come and~~ You probably shouldn’t look for me. You won’t find my body. So bury something cool that I love. I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m sorry, Mom.  
~~From~~ ~~Love~~ ~~Sincerly~~ Love,  
Richie.**

And so starts an unregular regular day at school. . .

### Later

“What are you looking at?” Bev tries to follow Richie’s gaze. You know what? She never even asked where he was in the morning or anything. The whole day something’s been up with Bev. She’s all quiet and all smiles and now finally at their early ass lunch, she speaks up. Richie looks at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re being weird today.”

“You’re being weird!”

It’s true and by the way Bev looks down it’s obvious she knows it. “Just. . .nothing.”

Richie smirks. “Holy shit, you’ve got a crush?!”

“No, I don’t!” Bev continues to look down avoiding looking at him.

“Who the fuck is it?!”

“Jesus, Richie! It’s Jesus fucking Christ who I’ve got a crush on!” retorts Bev before she starts to laugh and looks back up at him.

**Dear Bev**

“No way, you wouldn’t be taking the Lord’s name in vain like that if he was.” Richie leans across the table. He hasn’t even touched any of his food today. It’s sitting out, getting cold after a brief stint in the microwave. “Who is it? Please-Please tell me it’s not Bill. . .or the new kid. . .”

**You ~~are~~ were my best friend. I use past tense because I’m dead.**

Bev’s grin grows. A _gotcha_ grin and even though not a lot of people are hanging around their lunch table. Everybody else is elsewhere. Keeping a distance but it’s not like there were any open seats for them. Still, Bev leans forward, lowering her voice. “Don’t worry, I don’t have a crush on the new kid, that’s all you.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have a crush on the new kid.”

“ _Richie_! There’s no way you’re that good at acting. You have a crush on the new kid!”

**I hope I become a ghost because if anybody hurts you my ghost will fucking haunt them.**

“Who has a crush on the new kid?”

Shit. Fuck! Both Richie and Bev shut up snapping their attention to find Eddie standing beside there table squeezing the top of a paper lunch bag. The pressure he puts on it is about to send whatever is on the inside out and onto the ground. Neither Richie nor Bev say anything and Eddie continues to wring the neck of his lunch bag.

Eddie manages the fakest laugh. “Come on, who has the crush on the new kid?”

“Bev does,” Richie replies.

“. . .Oh!”

Bev swats at his face. “I don’t.”

“Oh. . .” Eddie steps away from them squeezing his bag harder. It’s for real now bursting at the seams. “I can just go sit somewhere else.”

**You can also tell my ghost all your secrets like to not-dead-me, but also, thanks for keeping all my secrets. Continue to keep them or I’ll haunt you.**

“No! I didn’t mean-I just don’t have a _crush_ on you. You seem very nice and very attractive for somebody else that may be very interested in speaking to you more often, a person who might even be closer than we realize.”

Eddie knits his eyebrows while examining the two. “I think-I think I’m gonna go now. This has been weird.”

“Not as weird as your mom.” Richie laughs at his own joke.

“My mom isn’t that weird!” retorts Eddie. The comment just came out of nowhere, so unexpected. “A lot of people are psychics.”

“Your mom is a psychic?” asks Bev then to herself she comments out loud, “Wait. Did I know that already?”

“Um, I don’t know if you knew that already,” Eddie responds like she actually meant for him to answer.

**I’m like 87% sure you’re the only person I ever told. Or like 95% sure.**

That whole time though Richie sits there staring at Eddie trying to pick up a better come back line or five but he comes up with nothing other than a single question. “Why are you here?”

**Thanks for not being weird about that crazy shit. ~~(Ha ha)~~**

The lunch bag explodes. A PB&J sandwich flies out from the bottom and onto their table. It's poorly wrapped and jelly splatters all over the place. A capri sun also makes an escape. The pressure causing some of it to crack open with juice spewing out of it and a note from his mom flutters down, in sight of everybody.

**Have a nice day, Eddie. XOX Your Mother.**

Richie sits there with some jelly on his glasses but doesn’t make a move to clear it off. Bev’s flicking juice from her fingers not really muttering anything sensical. 

“I SHOULD GO!” Eddie yelps. “I JUST WANTED TO REMIND YOU! Play practice is at sixth period or next period or whatever it is that you guys say.” And without his broken lunch, Eddie runs. All he takes is the embarrassing lunch note his mother wrote him and he’s about as gone as anybody could get during lunch period. Not a lot of places to hide yet he does.

Richie takes off his glasses and sets them onto the table. He jerks his bag onto the table and starts to dig through it unable to make sense of most of what it is. All of life blurs together while he uses his fingers to pluck out his glasses case. Cleaners inside of it. It takes him three tries to get the right thing and he sits there cleaning his glasses with the best of his blurry vision.

**See you again whenever you die. Hope you’re like some old hag by then.**

Yet Bev doesn’t have to wear glasses and she realizes there’s a few envelopes. One has her name on it and the other says **Eddie** after him crossing out several other attempts at a name. **~~Eds~~** , **~~Eduardo~~** , **~~Ed~~** , **~~New Kid~~** , **~~Edward~~** , **~~Edie~~** and then finally the actual name of **Eddie**. But Richie catches her with crisper vision and shows everything back into his bag with her envelope included.

“What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” snaps Richie.

Bev shakes her head. “No really, what’s going on?!”

Richie sighs. “Just. . .I don’t know! A fucking fight to the death is gonna happen later today.”

Bev stares at him. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Shit, Bev, I’m going to die.”

Bev shakes her head, still staring at him. “No, you’ll be fine.”

“Fuck. . .Beverely. . .just stop, look, I don’t know. I fucking tried and read all night and you know what I learned? The only thing that I fucking learned?”

“No, tell me.” Bev almost touches the back of his hand except he moves away. He drops the bag back onto the bench seat beside him. “What’d you learn?”

“Trolls have nards.”

“Ok, Monster Squad.” Bev chuckles. “Then kick them in the nards.”

**Love you for real life,  
Richie**

The bell blares and Richie and her are stuck sitting there a second too long. The rest of the world is moving all around them about to head back to their unregular regular day. Just one of those days for all of them. Some are dealt with more death experiences though. Richie scoops his bag off the bench and sighs. He drops the envelope that’s labeled **Bev** onto the table.

“Gotta go. I won’t see you later.”

“Oh shut up.” Bev tries to hand it back. “I’m totally gonna see you later.”

Richie shakes his head.

“No, I will see you later.” Bev ends up taking the letter and puts it in her bag. “You’re gonna kick that troll in the fucking nards and win.”

Richie smirks. “Truth.” And Richie goes to leave her but even with sitting in the same place Bev manages to get his attention again with yelling out a RICHIE. He looks back. “What?”

“Don’t forget. We have some work to do still.” Bev holds up the horseshoe. That gaggletak to figure out who is who in the changeling world. Richie stops and smiles right back at her. “So you gotta come back because either way, I’m throwing this at Bowers face.”

**P.S. If they never find my body. Make sure I end up on Unsolved Mysteries.**

“I’d like to see that.”

“I know.”

“You win.”

Bev tucks it away. “Go break a leg. Just. Don’t literally break your leg, Trashmouth.” 

And he leaves her sitting at the table even though she’ll be late to her next period and he’s about to be late to his whole death date because first. . .

### 20 Minutes Later

Eddie’s on stage clutching the script printed out for all of them. They’re delayed with practicing because somebody, _somebody_ decided not to show up so somebody else stood across from him. It’s Stan who smiles at him and offers up a bit of a shrug. To be honest, Eddie never realized he was in drama class until it was announced he’d just be reading for the part of Romeo today.

“I get bad stage fright,” mutters Stan.

“Sorry,” replies Eddie.

“Well, I don’t want your apology, I want Richie’s apology.” Stan pauses and seems to laugh at some inner thought. “I’d love to see that.”

But Eddie’s pretty sure he sees Stan smile whose face is almost pressed into the script. He looks up reaching a hand out. “Romeo takes Juli-Jules’ hand.”

“You don’t say that part!” their teacher yells.

Stan and Eddie though don’t hold hands. Eddie just smiles as Stan lets go to hold the paper as he keeps it still close to his face. “Your hand is like a. . .holy place that my hand is. . .unworthy to visit. If you’re offended. . .by the. . .”

“I think you’re reading the wrong side,” Eddie whispers and points at the same page he holds. It’s split in two between original text’ and ‘modern text.’ “The one that starts with ‘If I profane.’”

“Thought that didn’t sound right,” Stan mutters to himself.

Except this time around, Stan reads and behind Eddie, he hears somebody else sort of reading or talking right behind the curtain. There’s Richie’s shoes just peeking out at him. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand. . .” Stan does a lot better this around. “This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

But Eddie makes his way to the curtain, mini backsteps. Good thing the distance is short and he reads his lines.”Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much.”

Behind the curtain Richie movies sort of whispering along but not really. It’s more him whispering to himself. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_ You know what?! He barely knows this guy, this new kid and here he is about to leave some weird-ass note. One that if he comes back Eddie’ll think he’s all pretty fucking crazy. Richie isn’t paying too much attention as he tries to sneak the letter into Eddie’s backpack only to realize, Eddie’s fucking facing him. They can’t see each other. The curtain’s in the way. But still, Eddie’s fucking facing him as he reads the script. This is some weird bullshit.

“Which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

Richie’s memorized none of the words but feels like Eddie’s forcing him to say something with being right there. Which isn’t fair. Any challenge to speak is an easy one. Richie always feels words jumping and jumbling around his head. He blabbers the first words that leap into his head that must be Shakespearen of some sort. 

Looking at his feet, watching them pull away, Richie then quotes the single song stuck in his head for the day: “I wish I was special but I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo, What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here?”

“Those aren’t the words.” It’s Eddie on the other side of the curtain.

Poor Stan is out there not noticing anything with his nose on his paper. “What? That’s what it says?”

Eddie pulls the curtain back. Nobody’s there. It’s just his bag on a hook and people laughing behind him in the audience. Their teacher speaks up wanting to know what’s going on. Eddie stands there. It’s all so fucking weird. Creep sure is right. Eddie continues to stand there then returns to where Stan is on the stage with a few apologies.

“Um, are you ok?” Stan asks.

“Yeah.”

“What was that about?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the curtain. “Thought Richie was there. Could’ve sworn I heard him quote something like-like. . .Radiohead.”

Stan nods. “Sounds like Richie.”

Rather than continue the conversation, Eddie says what the teacher probably wants to hear. “Maybe we should start from the top?”

All while Richie’s making a run for it. Somebody from school is gonna call home, let his mom know he’s skipping, but she’ll be at work and maybe around now she’ll find his letter. Hopefully, she’ll weird it and forgive him for being such a shit. Bev included. And maybe Eddie who for no reason at all also got a letter other than when he was faking emotions the night before, he kinda wanted to share some words with the guy, too. But Bill, Stan, and Mike really deserved letters of their own.

What would those even look like?

**Dear Mike,  
You’re like the smartest fucking person I know and that’s actually cool. If you have a problem, contact my ghost. I’ll haunt whoever. No questions asked.**

**Dear Bill,  
If you date Bev and suck. I will haunt you. Nobody ever stole her from you. You’re weird. I blame Georgie’s disappearance. Sorry I was a jerk.**

**Dear Stan,  
~~I have a lot of explaining to do. . .~~** and no time to do it. **I'm sorry, Stan.**


	23. Pre-Battle Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well! Richie's nervous about this fight to the death bull shit.

# Pre-Battle Jitters

Richie tries to make an educated decision on whether or not to wear glasses into battle.

**Pros of wearing glasses:**

  * Can see.
  * Can see in high definition.
  * Seeing in general means being able to see attacks.



**Pros of not wearing glasses:**

  * Can’t see.



Well, seeing seemed ideal for battle but what if he wore them and they broke? Mags would be so mad. Richie looks up at Blinky who is pacing back and forth unable to stop. Even Aaargh looks ready to start chomping off his nails. Great. Perfect. Fuck.

“Oh shit, shit! Oh shit! I’m gonna die!” Richie whispers to himself again and again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Blinky offers no comfortable words but a pat on the back and “We all die someday.”

Richie glares at him.

“Language, Master Richard.”

Richie continues to glare at Blinky. “What? I didn’t even say anything.”

“You were about to curse again, Master Richard, and if you were I might be the one to kill you first for being inconsiderate.”

Richie squints at him. “I’d like to see you _fucking_ try.”

“MASTER RICHARD!”

But Aaargh grabs onto Blinky before moving forward. All his hands in little fists. Richie doesn’t even flinch while he glares at Blinky only announcements happen. Which means. Shits gonna start which is a bigger _oh shit_ moment for Richie ‘cause he’s about to die. Aaargh puts a hand on Richie’s shoulder, his palm is gigantic compared to all of him.

Yet somewhere behind Richie there’s a shout, “RICHIE!” He turns to see Bev as she skips/runs after him. She stumbles forward, resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath before looking up at him. “Hey! Hey Richie.” Bev puts up a hand stopping him even though out there in the area Richie’s about to fight Draal, there’s announcements being made for Draal and soon announcements will be made for Richie, too. “I came to see you. . .”

“Die?” Richie finishes.

Bev smiles and shakes her head still as she catches her breath. “No. Win. You’re my friend, why would I come and see you. . .die?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a shitty person.”

“I mean. . .you are, but just a tad bit.” Bev even pretends to show the few inches of shitiness that’s him. “But hey, break a leg. Please!”

Richie stops to glare at her, but it changes into a smile. “That’s just for theater kids.”

“Which you are now.”

“Not for long.” Richie looks out at all the trolls sitting on bleachers to check out today’s main event, his death. So much for being the first human Trollhunter, it only lasted a hot second. The bleachers rise up around the center, it’s an arena now where Draal basks in all the attention. Made more sense to see him as the Trollhunter than Richie Tozier. 

There’s not a lot to say about him. He’s ~~probably~~ funny and gets really weird intense crushes on people. That had to be unhealthy especially if he were into somebody like Draal. That’s now his enemy. 

The most important Richie Tozier Fact: **Can’t ever fucking focus**. It really is the weirdest fact because sometimes he could focus so hard on not being able to unfocus and collect the data of all the times his thoughts are so loud then did nothing about it because the unfocus is really distracting and anxiety-inducing or maybe anxiety isn’t the right word. To be honest, Richie’s not sure what the definition to anxiety is and it might be something he needs to check out whenever he gets home, if he makes it home. First thing to do after not dying was to look at a dictionary and figure that whole business out.

“Hey Richie,” Bev pipes up, breaking his thoughts. “Don’t forget the words,”

Richie looks at her with the amulet in hand. Right now, maybe anxiety isn’t even the right word or it could be since he doesn’t have a definition to the word. Also, what’s the point of a dictionary? Like yeah, to look up words and all but who decided on what words were in it and what they meant. 

“Richie!” Bev snaps at him at the same exact Blinky does, but he yells, “Master Richard!”

“Ready?”

Richie rolls his eyes because why would he forget the words. Either way, he says them as Bev does like they need it to be said in unison to work, “For the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command!”

Bev stumbles back and Aaargh catches her while hanging onto Blinky still. Blue light blinds them all as Richie reappears in some armor and a sword that’s way too big for him. Good thing Bev manages not to laugh but Richie does. He laughs then chuckles attempting to maybe somewhat toss it up and catch the sword but really, the hilt barely leaves his hand. But it’s a damn good thing he holds onto the sword because out there in the makeshift arena, Vendel announces:

“Richard Tozier, Son. . .” There’s a long pause and instead, Vendel goes “I apologize. Our Trollhunter, Richard Tozier, Son of. . .Mag-a-Rhett.”

Richie gets out there in the ring barely able to lift up the sword on its own. It’s too damn huge. Still, he tries his best to point it at Vendel up there. “That’s Richie _Trashmouth_ Tozier, Son of _Margaret_.” 

There aren’t any more smart ass comments because snark is hard to find when somebody like Draal is staring you down. The two stand across from one another in a regular looking ring. On all sides the trolls wait, a silence settles over them as anticipation happens. Vendel waves his hand to start the fight but Draal doesn’t move. His legs look taut, he’s about to pounce on Richie. And Richie makes sure his sword points at him. The amulet didn’t choose Draal, it didn’t, it chose him, a Losers but oh well. Somebody pulls a lever up in the stands sending everything straight to hell. Vibrations shiver through the ground as gears start to crank, wood and metal scrape across each other while Draal stays put. Richie’s pointing his weapon there. Well, shit, he doesn’t know how to start or finish a fight.


	24. This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie Tozier vs. Draal

# This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us

While not much continues to happen, Richie does his best to catch a song in his head. One versus the several that play in his brain with other noise. Gotta focus. Gotta fucking focus. The shivering ground lurches, it’s moving and creating steps or levels to this whole arena leaving Richie standing there with a sword he doesn’t know how to use at Draal. It’s one more **Oh shit** to add to his super long list of **Oh shits**. All from today. All about Draal.

Draal’s all pissed and saying something, but he’s a little too far for Richie to hear. Besides it’s probably “Something-Something I deserve this” and “Something-Something else.”

Instead, Richie hopes he can brace himself in time for an attack locking onto a song to peel back the extra thoughts. He nods to the beat kinda whispering those words to himself. _Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat. You can hear the thunder of stampeding rhinos, elephants, and tacky tigers. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us and it ain’t me who’s gonna leave._ Time to embrace that final thought. _It ain’t me who’s gonna leave_.

Fucking take that Draal.

Already the sword’s growing heavy as Draal glares at Richie forcing him to fill in the silence between the two of them. He’s never had a day of silence thanks to his brain. _Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat as twenty cannibals have hold of you, they need their protein just like you do. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us._

“Hey,” Richie says to Draal with a curt nod.

_And it ain’t me who’s gonna leave._

Before Richie can strain any muscles to move his sword into any sort of action, Draal flings himself at Richie. Adding a whole new level to his _oh shit_ list even though it’s more of an **OH SHIT**. 

It’s maybe about five seconds into the match and Draal flings Richie off a moving platform as the arena continues to transform. He slams into a lower level, shoulder maybe popping out of place and glasses definitely flying off, which means the world is nothing but a blur. All the air was knocked from his lungs making it hard to get any oxygen back in. Richie lies there feeling as if he might sink into the platform. 

Meanwhile, what is probably and undoubtedly Draal, stands up higher pumping his arms to get the audience roaring and cheering for him. Well, fuck that shit. Richie puts his glasses back on thankful they didn’t break. An actual bona fide miracle considering how pissed his mom would be home if he came home with a broken pair. Maybe if he sported a black eye it’d help his case.

Getting up, Richie gets a better grip on his weapon, not that it even matters. BAM! Draal slams into the ground in front of him. His impact sends Richie almost off-balance. It’s more the heaviness of the sword and the armor. But Draal swings a fist into him, which does the trick and another. Just pain. Pain. More pain. Lying down in pain was more comfortable. Draal knocks Richie down another whole level. He’s on the ground, glasses still on trying to scramble back up ‘cause here comes Draal. Blood’s tasting all iron-like in his mouth. Hopefully, he won’t choke on a tooth.

Up in the air, Draal leaps and comes crashing down. This is more of a **holy fucking shit** moment. Richie uses the sword and his hands to protect his face. Nothing happens. Draal crashes into him without ever actually hitting him. Some blue shield bars Draal from hitting him. Richie rolls to his side and out of the way because it doesn’t last long and Draal’s fists dig into the ground where he had been. The ground shakes beside him. Richie’s scrambling tasting blood, feeling blood, and bruises are forming along his joints as if to tell him to fucking stop.

Just die already.

Standing up, Richie points the sword at a growling Draal. Richie shakes his head and sighs. “Well. . .fuck you, man.” The words sound chipped by his haggard breathing. With his elbow, he wipes some blood and sweat away. Hot.

Before Draal makes another move Richie fucking books it. He holds on tight to his sword as he sprints away. Nope. The only reason he glances back is 'cause the crowd goes wild. Their cheering throws him off, it’s pretty all-consuming then there’s the moving gears of this stupid arena around them. Everything’s changing. Platforms are lifting up and down. Somewhere underneath lava awaits them like that’s not word. Then behind him, Draal is bouncing around and rolling like an actual real-life Sonic the fucking Hedgehog.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Richie screams and before Draal can reach him Richie digs his heels into the ground using the weight of the sword to help swing his body weight around. 

Since Draal’s still got some distance to cut through, Richie let’s go of the sword imagining it as some sort of death frisbee. The sword slices through the air striking Draal and knocking him out of his Sonic the Hedgehog phase. He crashes to the ground on his side. Already Richie’s backing up. He puts his hand out because like what if instead it’s a fucking boomerang he threw at him. Draal goes to snatch up his sword but the sword implodes in blue light and reappears in his hand. 

Somewhere off to the side, Richie makes out Blinky yelling, “I didn’t teach him that! Look! I didn’t teach him that!”

Surprise, surprise for them all. With Draal stumbling up, he’s a bit too top-heavy. Richie starts to run again unsure where to go. Somewhere. There’s not a lot of options seeing how he’s in a circle, but it’s a moving circle. There has to be something to use to his advantage. Everything is moving around him, it’s like some sort of set stage for Super Smash Bros but he’s got nothing on any of those characters and real-life him is weak as fuck. He’d better start doing push-ups or something all the time to get muscles or something with this sword being his number one weapon. But fuck, adrenaline does help. Richie makes a run for it hearing the crowd cheer again as Draal rips up the ground. He’s all Sonic the Hedgehog as he rolls straight after him, charging much faster than on his two feet. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

_This town ain’t big enough for the both of us and it ain’t me who’s gonna leave._ Some focus shatters as another song creeps up on him. _Istanbul was Constantinople, now it’s Istanbul, been a long time gon, Oh. . ._ Focus needs to happen. Focus needs to happen.

Once again, Richie swings the sword around without ever really stopping. It flies at Draal who leaps up, knocking it to the side of its path before rolling again. So much for that attack. Either way, Richie continues sprinting as he goes straight for the edge of the platform and lets gravity take a win. He slams down below using his hands to hold onto his glasses so they don’t get knocked off. Oh, the pain, Richie screams into the ground made about all of this as two songs play and another one starts, all jumbled up and making his stomach hurt because he can barely accomplish what’s at hand. 

_Sweat, baby, sweat, baby sex is a Texas drought to me and you do the kind of stuff only Prince would sink about so put your hands down my pants and I’ll bet you’ll feel. . .Nuts, yes, I’m. . ._ Fucking focus on not dying. There’s so much dirt on his lenses. Still, he stumbles to his feet spitting blood out. _This town ain’t big enough for the both of us and it ain’t me who’s gonna leave._ Each point aches and his sword appears to be MIA, still. Shit. Fuck. Istanbul used to be Constantinople. 

Richie turns because he feels Draal there but turns right into a punch. It sparks stars in his vision but cracks his glasses in two. The plastic pops, not as loud as bone or cartilage (maybe). Maybe he wouldn’t even hear it over his fucking thoughts. _You want it rough, you’re out of bounds._ Draal lands another punch to his chest. He falls back half sure it stopped his heart right. _Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat. Love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket, So take me back to Constantinople._ Richie throws a punch, it looks more pretend than real because there’s no power to it and Draal flicks him off to the side using his attack to his own advantage instead. _No, you can’t go back. . .This town ain’t big enough for the both of us and it ain’t me who’s gonna leave._

Something whistles. Richie thinks it’s another fist. He can take a beating. He knows Henry Bowers but the sound is so unlike anything that he falls backward and just in time as an axe pendulum sweeps across right where he stood. It separates him and Draal. Well, that could've been him. Cut down but in two and there shouldn’t be more than one Richie Tozier in the world.

On the ground, Richie sort of crab walks in an attempt to get out there. But it’s all pain, pain, pain, pain, pain and no thoughts making sense as if he can’t fight on his own anymore. With one hand he hangs onto his broken glasses while his other hand and feet try to launch him off but Draal jerks forward grabbing onto his ankles and drags him through the dirt. The pendulum almost gives him a haircut as he tries to wriggle free like an earthworm.

_This town isn’t big enough, not big enough for both of us._

Somewhere Richie catches Bev screaming, “WEREWOLF’S GOT NARDS!” Like she really needed to say that out loud because yeah.

Draal releases Richie to go for another punch and maybe to even kill him since it’s a whole fight to the death. He’s grumbling about some shit already, he’s the rightful Trollhunter. But. Fuck. That. Shit. Right. Now. Richie kicks up as hard as he can hitting his groin as hard as possible causing some distorted whoop to escape Draal as he leans forward clutching himself with his eyes bulging out. 

Richie scrambles up. There’s spikes coming from Draal’s back, he’s so large and it’s not like his eyes are really on the side of his face. All forward-facing. Richie stands up behind him and Draal jerks his head back and forth and starts to whip around not realizing he’s there. A fucking blindspot. Richie tries to keep there but as Draal turns into him that pendulum swings out missing them.

It’s one hell of a lightbulb moment. Draal moves out of the way, close to missing his balance and Richie’s already running away from him after the pendulum. Maybe he should just let like physics and some shit do the fighting for him. Draal doesn’t right straight at Richie. He shakes his head. At this point, he has everything going for him and Richie still hasn’t gotten his sword back and is stuck with broken glasses. Richie backs up into a wall, he leans there as if to catch his breath listening to some gears crunch behind him.

“What? What is this? The Trollhunter quitting? Done already in battle? You never deserved this honor, I have fought all my life for such a mantle, me, Draal, son of Kanjigar.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! Would you shut up already! Stop being such a dick!”

“How dare you speak to me that way!”

“Fine then! You know what.” Those gears are winding up, more and more. Draal is headed toward him. Richie pulls the amulet from him letting armor peels away leaving him there in jeans and a rumpled Hawaiian shirt. “Just fucking come and take it then!”

“I plan, too!” Draal is making a run forward on his two feet.

There’s a click behind Richie. He’s hanging onto the amulet, holding it out and he blurts, “YIPPEE KI-YAY MOTHERFUCKER!” 

Before the pendulum lashes out, Richie dives to the sides whispering to himself as fast as he can manage: _For the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command._

Draal can’t even see the pendulum making its way at him as a burst of blue light shoots out of the amulet, throwing armor back onto Richie who hits the ground and rolls away as he does the best shoulder tuck of his fucking life so far. Richie lies on his back, holding his glasses to his face watching in time as the pendulum strikes Draal straight in the chest and sends him rocketing across and out of the little arena. He flails over the side towards some lava casually waiting around to kill them.

“IT WORKED! IT FUCKING WORKED!” Richie yells, out loud, doesn’t mean to but he does.

All around the trolls go wild. They won’t stop screaming as Richie gets up trying to let his glasses balance on his ears as he makes out Draal’s on hand hanging tight to the edge of the cliff. He looks up to Vendel who stands so far above him with his staff. Vendel nods to him, which doesn’t click as a command until the rest of the trolls start to chant: _Kill, kill, kill, kill._

Richie gawks at Draal’s hand there, he’s hanging on for dear life and Richie walks over to him. With his free hand, he reaches out letting the sword reappear. It’s a pretty rad trick to remember. Looking down, Draal’s there shaking his head as he looks at the lava hanging underneath his feet then he looks up at Richie. 

“Please. . .make it quick.”

But Richie gawks at him, his jaw feels like it’s about to dislocate. Instead, he digs the sword into the ground, uses it for some support as he reaches out to pull Draal up. “Shut up, don’t make it fucking awkward.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to save you.”

_Finish the fight! Finish the fight! Finish the fight!_

“It’s a fight to the death,” Draal attempts to remind Richie.

Except Richie keeps his hand stretched out. “What the fuck? Forget that shit, stop making this all awkward, new Trollhunter, new rules.”

Between _kill_ and _finish the fight_ , Richie’s close to toppling over with Draal. The heat from the lava is eating at him but then Draal grabs onto his hand and Richie pulls him up and to safety. Right away they’re met with jeers. Such fury rises up from everybody except Bev who sprints over to Richie and throws her arms around him, hugging him. Bev holds onto both sides of his glasses and mutters something about having tape in her bag.

Vendel’s voice booms reminding Richie, “This is a fight to the death.”

Richie yells back. “I SAID! NEW TROLLHUNTER! NEW RULES!”

“That is not how this works, Master Richard,” replies Vendel. “You do not make the rules.”

“Well. . .fuck you then!” Richie looks around at all the angry trolls hanging out hoping for some bloodshed. They got some. He’s all bleeding and bruised and his glasses broke. “There’s more important shit going on like changelings probably and-and. . .” Before Richie gets any more words out, Blinky is there grabbing onto him, practically smothering him his hands. Richie’s trying to break free but exhaustion. Like a lot of exhaustion is weighing him down. Enough to keep him out for a month for two.

“IGNORE HIM! Ignore him! He has a concussion! Don’t worry about him.” 

Blinky hands Richie off to Aaargh who refuses to let him speak as they all rush out of the arena. Outside in Troll Market Aaargh lets Richie stand on his own again. Bev takes Richie’s glasses from him to get the tape out from her bag. Blinky rests two of his hands on Richie’s shoulder. He’s basically a blob without being able to see sans glasses. 

“Master Richard, I warn you to watch your words. There’s people here who do not like change and we have yet to find concrete evidence of changelings and even if we did, we would have to wait.”

Bev returns Richie’s glasses to him. She used neon pink tape to pull them together. 

“Shit yeah, now these look better,” Richie says as he puts them on. Wearing them he’s got a high definition of Troll Market. Draal is leaving with trolls jeering at him and he’s kind of sure somebody spat on him.

It’s like Blinky never said a word to him ‘cause Richie changes the subject. To be honest, he can’t even recall what was just said. Something about change or no change or changelings or maybe it wasn’t any of those things. Maybe he needed to change. Whatever. “What’s wrong with Draal?”

“Oh yes. . .since it was a battle to the death and you let him live, he will live the rest of his life in exile.” Blinky seems to push it to the side like that’s no problem. No big deal, Richie’s the reason why some troll doesn’t have a home or a life anymore when he tried to give the guy a life.

“Blinky. Aaargh.” Vendel cuts into their somewhat of a conversation. “I would like to speak with you two in private.”

Blinky looks at Richie and smiles. “Congratulations, Master Richard, we should celebrate later, but for now get home safe.”

Richie pushes his glasses up his nose, grinding his teeth as they jiggle a bit from the brokenness even with Bev’s best attempt at taping them together. “Yeah, right, bye.”

“Bye,” Bev comments.

The two start to walk away and she gives Richie a little poke. He rubs his arm and shakes his head. “Ouch, that hurt.”

“Probably because you got beat up out there.”

Richie’s still rubbing his arm. “Yeah, yeah! Probably!”

“Hey, so, I read your note. . .”

Richie closes his eyes as if that’d make this conversation disappear.

“Since you’re not dead, you better still be there and help me beat up anybody who’s a jerk to me.”

“Good thing I have a sword.”

The two look at each other before bursting into laughter and make their exit. It’d be nice to let the laughter last but of course there’s one more _oh shit_ moment he needs to face and that’s a pretty angry Maggie and his aching body. Some of his face is already swollen and it doesn’t seem like his one arm will be all wonky, which maybe will be the end of him when the next troll decides he should be super dead.


	25. Trouble at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is awkward.
> 
> Richie's mom is mad.
> 
> Strickler's there for some reason.
> 
> Eddie left Richie a message.
> 
> Draal shows up, too.
> 
> Everything is terrible and weird.

# Trouble at Home

Well, all the lights are on in the Tozier household. Richie pauses at the door and presses his ear to it like that’ll help. There’s voices on the other side and he looks out at the street. With no real defined driveway, it’s hard to tell if anybody’s visiting. Rather than using his deductive skills, Richie opens the door and walks straight in only to find his mom pacing and her hands flailing as she’s talking to Strickler who sits at a table drinking tea, which he chokes on at the sight of Richie.

Richie stands there letting go of the door. It’s open letting bugs inside not that Maggie complains (she usually complains), instead, she stops moving and stares at him. Richie breaks the abrupt silence he created. “Why’s he here?”

“WHERE WERE YOU?!” Maggie shouts, not out of anger it’s just a sudden burst of anxiety. “Richie! RICHIE?! Where were you?! Oh my God! Richie! I was so close to calling the police and-and. . .”

“Mom. . .I was with Bev,” replies Richie. He looks at Strickler who puts his teacup to the side. “Really, why are you here?” This time he directs the question at Strickler rather than Maggie.

Strickler points at himself and glances at Maggie who’s holding her chest trying to get a good count on her breathing. 

Once when Richie was still in grade school, she tried to help teach him a trick. Whenever he felt everything shutting down because there’s too much to do and he couldn’t focus on one thing that he should choose on goal then count down from five because then he can do anything.

Five.

Four.

Three.

“When. . .you did not show up for the rest of your classes today, I came here to speak with your mother about your absence.”

Two.

Strickler pauses. He looks at Maggie again, the two sort of exchange a smile but it’s gone so fast that Richie isn’t sure he imagined it. Some back thought tells him they’re glad he disappeared and a more forward thought tells him _danger_ Strickler might be into his mom. 

One.

“Richard. . .!” Maggie takes a few big steps to stand in front of him, she inhales real deep. “Richie, you-you- _you_ can’t keep doing this. We just had a conversation yesterday about all of. . .”

“I also had play practice. I didn’t skip class, I was there. Remember? I’m Romeo DiCaprio.”

Again Maggie and Strickler exchange a look.

Richie’s so fucking close to blurting, _What’s going on here?_

But Strickler provides some information while he continues to stay seated at the table. “Stanley Uris is now Romeo _Montague_ in the play, much to his disappointment.”

“Ok, first of all. I know, that was an inside joke between Mags and me.” Richie presses his lips together, they’re losing color and he rapidly shakes his head. He kicks the door shut behind him. “And second of all, no, that’s me. Stan doesn’t like to public speak. He likes other stuff like birds and science and bird science stuff and being annoyed. I know also because I was just there or I mean, earlier because I just got back from hanging out with Bev.”

“Why-Why. . .Why are you lying?” Maggie asks. “ _Richie_. . .”

“I’m not,” Richie lies. “I swear. Like I really mean it, I’m not lying.” He attempts a smile.

“Janeth changed the lineup today due to the fact that her original Romeo has not shown up to a single play practice.”

Maggie folds her arms over her chest as she glares at Richie.

Richie blurts unable to hold back any of his thoughts by this point. “Ok, I’m sorry, but why are you here?! This isn’t a school.”

“Because he’s worried about you!” protests Maggie. “I’m worried about you! Richie! We care about you!”

“Look, I’m fine, really. Nothing to even worry about. You’re just being overdramatic.”

Maggie moves closer. “Richie! Look at yourself! Your glasses are broken, you’re filthy, also is your lip bleeding?” She squints at him. “Oh my God, Richie! Are you. . .what happened?”

_A troll beat me up_ isn’t the right answer. There’s the Bowers Gang as an easy answer but Strickler sits there staring at Richie, his gaze cuts right across the room making him wanna slip out of the room, into his bed. Not talk to any of them. Get the fuck outta dodge. Instead of answering Maggie’s question with a lie or a truth, he whispers to only her. “Why is he here? He’s a teacher.”

Maggie lowers her voice. “He was worried about you and me. I’m not making that up.”

“Maybe I should leave. . .” Strickler stands up.

“No. . .Walt-Walter. . .” Maggie starts to walk towards him but he smiles. “I’m sorry, sorry, you’re right.” She shoots a dirty look at Richie. “We should have a private conversation.”

Strickler pauses beside Richie but he’s still looking at Maggie. “Thank you for the meal and the tea. Delicious.”

“No problem. Really. Not a problem.” Maggie ends up nervously laughing as she watches him. “Can always cook again and by that I mean like order out because I can’t cook. It’s-It’s not a problem.” 

And Strickler looks at Richie, he puts a hand on Richie’s shoulder who tenses up. “Young Atlas.” They lock eyes. “You have an incredible mother here and a good support system, I hope you find what you need to. . .avoid whatever path you are currently on.”

Richie wrinkles his nose. What the fuck. And his teacher leaves, which means. He looks at his mom, she folds her arms over her chest as she stares at him. A lie, he needs a lie, like a really good lie. 

And Richie whispers, “Fight club.”

“Fight. . .Fight club?” Maggie raises an eyebrow and almost snorts.

“Yeah.” Richie sort of wriggles there. “That’s-That’s where I was.”

“Oh? Oh really? So what? You expect me to believe that you- _you_ were at _fight club_?”

Richie nods and points at his face. “Um, yeah.”

“Isn’t the first rule not to talk about fight club?”

Richie just goes “ooooooooo.”

Maggie sighs looking about to collapse. She goes to the table picking up what’s left on it. “Just-Just go to bed. We-We-We. . .We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

Translation: _Let’s never talk about this again._

Some reason Richie continues to stand there watching as she goes into the kitchen. She drops the last of the dishes into the sink, uses a towel to clean her hands. By the time she turns around to leave, she loses her footing looking pretty surprised that Richie’s still standing there watching her there.

“What?” she snaps.

“I don’t know!” Richie looks away from her pushing his glasses back but now they wobble thanks to being broken and just some tape holding them together. “Did you like. . .the movie?”

“What movie?”

Richie shrugs. “Um, _Fight Club_.”

“Go to bed.”

“What?! I mean it, I wanna know.” Richie hangs tight to his bag. “I really liked the book. I-I got it. You can. . .like borrow it if you want.”

“Go to bed.”

“Ok.” Richie huffs before he goes upstairs. He throws all his crap onto the ground before collapsing onto the bed. Lying there he can hear his mom moving around downstairs then she’s coming up. Time’s moving but it doesn’t feel like it. There’s a soft rap at his door and Richie rolls onto his side to see Maggie enter holding onto a piece of paper. “ _What_?”

“Forgot, your friend called.”

“What friend?”

Maggie reaches out letting him get up to take whatever note she jotted down on a notepad. She makes no further comment and exits. The door closes as Richie stands there squinting at the notepad attempting to make sense of whatever the fuck she wrote down.

It just says:

**Eddie called. Wanted to see if you’re home. Missed you at play practice. Call back at 938-8817.**

Something crashes downstairs. Richie looks up not realizing he’d been so sucked into the few words that he didn’t notice his mom went downstairs again. He pushes the door open.

“Mom?”

“What?” Maggie pokes her head out of the bathroom while hanging onto her toothbrush.

Wait, she’s upstairs. Richie stares at her gripping the note a little too hard. It’s all crumpled up now, maybe he won’t be able to read it later. It’s too late to call anybody. At least, that’s what Maggie will say.

“What is it?” she snaps.

“Eddie, like the new kid Eddie?”

“Richie! Richie. I-I don’t know, he just said his name’s Eddie.”

“Wait but like did he leave a last name?”

“ _Richard_.”

“Ok! Ok! Jeez, sorry.” Richie backs up into his room hearing his mom spit into the sink and turn the water on. He stands there waiting. Something downstairs crashes again. They’re not alone. He slides his feet across the ground pocketing the amulet. Outside his room, he softly calls after Maggie, “I forgot my homework downstairs.”

“I’m going to bed.” Is Maggie’s response.

Richie keeps a hand on the amulet as he does his best not to make a sound. Something he mastered long ago. It helped with sneaking ice cream and candy in the middle of the night whenever Maggie didn’t have to work a late shift.

Whoever decided Richie should be the Trollhunter is absolutely fucking nuts. Him. Him?! The amount of times he’s walked into a room with a purpose and forgot is too often. It’ll probably happen out there. Him walking onto a battlefield then being like _Why am I here?_ and like somebody starts stabbing him to death only for him to be like _Oh yeah, a fight._ Maybe Richie should attempt his mom’s trick again. Countdown from five, be ready to do anything. It sounded hokey as fuck. 

The floor vibrates. Richie stands there looking at it. Whoever is antagonizing them for the night isn’t here but below in the basement. He is careful the way he walks, not making a sound as he starts down the steps pulling the amulet from his pocket. Without saying anything, Richie continues. There’s still human murderers and robbers out there. Can’t let them know his secret. Or can he? Right? Shouldn’t he fuck up a murderer for breaking into their house? Like. That’s some crazy bullshit right there. What if he caught some big serial killer? Like he could go out there and beat up the Zodiac killer or someone who is currently a serial killer. There’s gotta be one. 

_Dateline_ would know. Keith Morrison would never lie to him or any of those other people on the show. 

Whatever’s down there stops moving. It looks as if the shadows settle and the only light is the soft glow of the amulet. Richie grips it. The shadows start to move. He lifts it up shouting, “For the glory of Merlin daylight is mine to command!” The words come close to slurring together. He leaps off the bottom step, landing, in armor and holds his sword. “I’ll fuck you up whoever you are!” he shouts at the darkness only for Draal to slowly step out. Some reason, Richie takes a single step back up onto the stairs. “What are you doing here? Come to finish me off.”

Draal shakes his head. “No.”

“Then why are _you_ here?!” Too many random visitors for a day. Fuck. This. Shit.

Draal scans the area as if somebody is listening in on them. Richie makes sure he points the sword at him still, just in case he needs to impale the troll for real in this round. “I. . .I no longer have a home, and thought it might be wise if I were to come here and. . .”

“EAT ME?!” Richie attempts to finish.

“What?! No! Disgusting! What kind of troll do you think I am?” Draal barks back at him. “I’m not a fan of crunchy food anyway.”

“What makes you think I’m crunchy?”

Draal looks him up and down.

“It’s not my fault I’m-I’m all. . .skin and bones, you judgemental prick!”

“I want to help train you.” Draal gets the purpose out there in the open and Richie somewhat lowers his sword. “How much do you think Blinky could really teach you?”

“Why would you help me?”

“Can’t go back. Might as well make sure the Trollhunter doesn’t die.”

“If I die then you become the Trollhunter though.”

“We don’t know that. It already didn’t choose me after my father.”

Richie sits on these words for a bit. He comes back down off the steps again. “Fine. What’s in it for you?”

“Thought that was clear. You not dying means Troll Market is safe. You dead means they die, too, I don’t want that.”

“Oh yeah. Good logic.” Richie sighs. “But do we have to start now though?”

Draal nods. 

“But I’m tired.”

Draal shrugs. “You can sleep when you’re dead.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

Draal shoots him a _look_.

“Fine, fine. Just wait like an hour. Let my mom at least sleep before we start training.” Richie sighs again and sits on the bottom step. He stays in his armor and hugs the sword closer to himself as he stares at Draal. They say nothing for a few minutes. “So like. . .do you watch TV?”

“TV?”

“Good, good. You teach me how to fight and I’ll like teach you fun things like pop culture and comedians and music and so on.”

Draal tilts his head to the side. “What do you get out of that?”

“So many chances to mock you.” Richie grins.

Draal shakes his head. He reaches a hand out. “Deal.” And Richie takes his hand still laughing at some thought of him introducing something like _Unsolved Mysteries_ or _Saturday Night Live_ or _Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure_ or like whatever in the world Pauly Shore is. “Deal."


	26. Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Eddie, Stan, Richie, Bev, and Ben.

# Separate Ways

There’s no Bill, just Stan who walks with Eddie to school. At least, Eddie has a bike. He talked his mom into it. The two ride next to one another. A victory of sorts. At a red light, Stan looks over at Eddie, thinking real hard about something. Maybe if Eddie weren’t so afraid his mother would show up at any second to take the bike back, he would’ve said _what_. Instead, he smiles and nods at Stan.

“Where were you last night?” Stan asks.

“Home.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing exciting. Just. My mom can be weird sometimes. She says I’m allergic to sugar.”

Stan studies Eddie for a minute too long. “Well. . .are you?”

“No, I mean, maybe or I don’t think so.” Eddie sighs trying to fish some memory out of him not being able to have sugar. “I’m pretty sure I’m not. It’s just. . .my mother is strange.”

Stan nods. “I noticed.”

“It kinda. . .” Sucks. It’s fucking awful. Terrible. Too many words to choose from. Eddie’s feet scrape along the ground. Each time, Stan sort of flinches not digging the sound so Eddie makes sure he walks right and changes the subject, “What did you do?”

“Not much. Visited Bill. But. . .I had other stuff to do.”

“What kind of other stuff?” They’re back to pedaling and Eddie’s too happy about just letting go of his mom.

“Stuff.”

Eddie shouts to Stan, “That’s very vague.”

Stan shakes his head. “Maybe you should catch the hint.”

“Alright then. My mom is crazy and a psychic so unless it’s something like about super freaky sex, nothing can shock me.”

“I promise, no weird super freaky sex.”

“So just regular freaky sex?”

“No, not that either.”

Eddie shakes his head and makes sure he does a quick scan. His mom isn’t around. Good. He left her far behind at the house, she’d been sitting there watching some morning show when he left demanding a kiss from him. A few times Eddie instead glances at just Stan watching him pedal away wondering how many questions he can slip in about Richie or if he should pretend it’s really this Bev he’s interested in. Also, maybe it is. . .Bev. It’s not.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t really listen to any music, really.”

“Oh!” Eddie pauses. “Same! I don’t know why I asked that.”

“Probably because people ask that question a lot.” There’s another stop sign. They don’t go anywhere really near the route Eddie’s seen Bev and Richie take. But. Whatever. “I guess I just listen to the radio though, but when Richie and I were friends, I’d listen to his music.”

“Oh?” Wow.

“Yeah, it was really annoying. Like good music but he’s annoying because he’d pretend he’s a radio show host.” Stan pauses for a bit. They’re so close to school. Then Eddie’s not sure if he hears the following right or not. “I kinda miss that.”

Eddie makes no comment as they roll into the schoolyard to the bike rack. There’s a few other people there. After Eddie locks up his bike, he checks to make sure it’s ok about five different times. Stan doesn’t say anything as he waits for him. Eddie makes sure his bookbag is good too as he turns and looks at him.

“Where’s Bill?”

Stan shrugs. “Something about Georgie.”

“Is he. . .ok?”

Another shrug from Stan. “Don’t know, but he’s still eating silverware.”

“I don’t think that’s healthy.”

“It’s not.”

The two of them move from the bike rack with some time to spare but it’s kind of awkward just hanging around the school. At least Eddie has Stan to take the lead. They head up a few steps into the building with plenty of other kids.

“Have you ever heard of Tarrare?”

“Is that when you eat like raw beef before a meal?” Stan sort of yells but moves closer to Eddie because there’s so many other people chatting around them. 

“No, that’s tartare.”

“Then no. I haven’t heard of that.”

Eddie shrugs. No idea why, it doesn’t even make sense reaction wise. He’s so weird. “Um, so he’s like from like George Washington times but was French and could like eat _anything_ and I really mean anything because he even ate babies out of a hospital.” Stan shoots Eddie his trademark Stan look. It’s not really anything Eddie can quite describe or define other than it’s Stan’s _look_ , but then again, everybody sort of just has a look. His sort of hits different. It’s both sad and annoyed and wait, it’s also some part happy. “No, really, it’s a true story. They’ve done all sorts of studies on him. But he would even eat puppies and I mean like whole puppies, even their teeth.”

“You’re making this up.”

“No, I’m not. It’s really. Like I bet he’s in some world encyclopedia or some book somewhere. Just go to the library. But he died of tuberculosis, which is still a problem in the world, but that doesn’t affect your stomach. He had a lot of bad diarrhea, probably esplosive. People pooped themselves to death a lot back then.”

“That’s all disgusting, I didn’t like any of that.” Stan has to shout because the further into the school hallway, the louder it’s getting. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I saw Geor. . .Bill’s brother ate a spoon and I thought of it.”

“Wait!” Stan stops even though a few people end up bumping into the two when they stop. “You actually saw Georgie eat silverware.”

“Yeah. . .you haven’t?”

“No.” Stan looks down as if he’s calculating something.

Eddie’s about to say something else when instead he gets all distracted because here comes Bev and Richie. But like here really comes Bev and Richie. They’re not just walking in the halls. They’re walking through the halls right at them. Eddie gawks at Richie feeling so weird because he wrote that real fucking weird note to him. The note literally floored him, he stayed home making sure he got it all outright. And he called him? He fucking called him last night. Richie didn’t even call back. But here comes Richie (and Bev).

“Did Tartare eat silverware?” Stan asks. It appears he’s even about to add something when Richie and Bev both stop right there. Those two get their own trademarked Stan look. “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to Eddie,” Richie comments.

“What?” Stan looks from Richie to Eddie then back at Richie. “Not even a hi for me.”

“Hi Stan.”

“Because of you I somehow got your part in the play.”

“Yeah, Strickler came right over to my place to tell me.”

Bev interrupts. “Wait? What? You didn’t mention that part.”

“Mr. Strickler came to your place?” blurts Stan. “Why?”

Richie glares at him, but there’s nothing threatening about his look. He looks about as annoyed as anybody would if a fly kept buzzing around. “I need to talk to only Eddie.”

“I heard you, but I’d like to talk about Mr. Strickler visiting your house. You’re-You’re not even a good student so it’s not like you won an award.” Stan goes on. It’s the most Richie’s heard him talk in some time, which for some reason, he ends up smiling about. Besides it really is unfair that Stan would decide to side with Bill when Richie’s the reason to why they all became friends in the first place. Same with introducing Bev to the group. “I’m curious, I mean that.”

Forget it. Richie can’t hold his words back anymore because there’s just too many on his brain. It’s the same way even in class. Everything will be going fine then he’ll come up with what sounded like a great joke until he said it out loud. “Why did you call my house last night?”

Eddie lowers his chin a bit, he’s stuck there gawking at Richie even though he has Richie, Stan, _and_ Bev all staring and waiting for an answer or some sort. But he’s just there. Standing. Gawking. Not a single word pops into his brain. As in literally, not a single word. It’s sort of casually empty for a change, which seems worse compared the usual noisiness. Also, everybody’s waiting. Not as in everybody-everybody but everybody who really counts in the situation as a whole. With all the other students walking by with their backpacks and things, he finds the words he needed all along.

“Homework!” Eddie yells. He quiets down a little. “I needed help with homework.”

“And you thought _Richie_ could help?” Stan tries not to chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Shut up, Stan, I’m great at homework! What kind? Looking to study some anatomy?”

Eddie kinda looks to Stan for some help like he’d have better answers. But Stan’s there groaning. “Is there-Is there even an anatomy class?”

“No. No, there’s not,” Bev adds to the conversation.

Eddie stares at Richie and something clicks into place. “Oh! What! No! I really mean, real homework, like history homework.”

“That’s not what my mom said.” Richie shrugs.

“That joke doesn’t even make sense.” Eddie glares at him.

Chances are this could’ve gone on for some time or at least until the bell rings. Maybe the two would still be out in the hall after. But nobody’ll ever know because Ben walks over to them. Though it doesn’t appear that he notices anybody but Bev. Stan slides away a bit and pulls Eddie with him. Richie takes a step back. Ben just walks right on up to Bev.

“I didn’t see you this morning,” he says.

“Oh, right. Um. . .” Bev looks at her feet. “That’s because I rode in with Richie.”

“Bye,” Richie says to him.

“Don’t be. . .rude.” Bev kinda looks up, enough to smile at Ben. “He’s not too bad.”

“Excuse you, but I’m not a fan of anybody who runs with Bowers.” Richie fires off a dirty look in Ben’s direction. Except there’s Bev behind him and she’s still kinda looking at Ben and smiling but looking off at the same time. “Whatever, we’re cooler than those guys anyway.”

“I don’t think you know what the word _cooler_ means,” Stan whispers.

“Oh, I do, we may still be losers but we’re cooler losers.” Richie returns his focus to Eddie though and fixes his glasses. “But really, why did you call my house?”

Eddie shrugs. “You-You missed play practice again. I don’t know. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Maybe to profess your undying love for me.”

Eddie grinds his teeth. “That’d-That’d be weird.”

“Yeah, probably.”

The hallways are clearing out, people heading to their first class of the day while the five are standing around no longer being bumped into. Richie left them with some weird science. Although he’s getting ready to say something again. Before he can get whatever bad joke out, Strickler walks over to them. He stands there, hands behind his back. He eyes each one of them as an individual before addressing the group.

“It may be best for you all to head to class.” Strickler makes it a point to glance at his watch. “Wouldn’t want you missing the bus today. Anybody who’s not on time will miss the field trip.”

“What? WE HAVE A FIELD TRIP!” Not even Richie knows why he shouted this. “Why didn’t anybody tell me?!” He can’t even remember bringing home some permission slip for his mom. The thought never even crossed his mind. He forgot a lunch. If they’re gone all day, he won’t be able to get any food. All he had were little tickets for their cafeteria to get food. That’s worthless beyond the school’s walls.

“To the museum,” Stan answers as if it were a question.

“Shiiiiit. . .” 

“Is there a problem, Young Atlas?” 

“Um, no, I just am not a museum person or a field person, but trips can be nice.”

Only Eddie laughs, it’s an easy to miss chuckle.

Strickler though isn’t having it. “Please, all of you, get to class.”

The five stumble away together. Richie bumps into Stan and Bev before figuring out how to walk straight again. Somehow it felt like a skill he lost with everything else on his mind. A lot of things and none of them were a field trip. To the museum? Things have been safe at school, what if something attacks them on the bus or at the museum? That’d be pretty messed up.

“How do you forget a field trip?” Stan asks them. 

“I don’t know. There’s more important things to think about.” Like troll fighting and troll hunting and troll protecting and not dying because of a troll and like the super embarrassing shit he wrote to his mom, Bev, and Eddie, and it’s not like his mom even mentioned anything about it. Another worry, his mom being mad at him. Moms were probably supposed to be angry but something about it really sucked because it wasn’t even like he was doing some cool shit like drugs and sex and rock and roll out there in the world. Just getting his ass handed to him by magical creatures or whatever nonsense.

Behind Richie, Bev whispers to him. “We still have that. . .thing to do.”

“What thing?”

“Um. . .” Everybody else glances at her as if they’re all in this conversation. “I’m a horse girl and I need to get a horse shoe to my horse.”

“You have a horse?” Ben asks.

Bev nods.

“I didn’t know that. What’s your horse's name?”

“Oh, um, Boy Meets World.”

“Is that a normal horse name?” Stan asks.

“Yeah, it is, it’s a very normal name. I told her to name her horse 91020 or Twin Peaks but she said no.” Richie comes in with the saving lie or what feels like one. He gives her a curt nod getting the situation. It’d be better if they were at school all day.

The five are heading towards the wing of the building where their homerooms meet. Only Stan and Richie share one with their last names being somewhat close letter wise. Maybe it’s on everybody’s mind because Ben ends up asking a particular question, “Do you think we have to be on a specific bus or can we choose one?”

“I don’t even know what field trips are anymore,” Richie replies.

“We can choose,” Bev says and fixes her backpack.

It’s getting dangerously close to the bell ringing. Stan and Richie slow their pace down about to leave for another class.

“We should sit together!” Ben attempts. Everybody starts shooting each other _looks_. Each _look_ is similar but probably means something different all together. “I have something crazy to show everybody.”

“Eew,” retorts Richie.

“It’s not inappropriate. I promise. You’ll see.”

Eddie moves away with Bev and Ben. He stares at Richie and Stan as they go into the same classroom together. Stan’s saying something to Richie who doesn’t appear to be listening at all. It’s impossible to tell what he’s even looking around at. The three are heading off towards their classes as Ben continues his valiant attempt at starting or keeping up a conversation.

“It’s going to sound strange, but I think I saw an alien.”

“An alien?” Eddie scoffs at this. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see.” Ben starts nodding. He grabs onto his backpack with both hands. “I have a photo. On the bus.”

“How do you know we’ll sit together?” Eddies asks it meaning the question as a question.

But maybe Ben felt different. “Well, now you have a reason to sit with me.”

“See you around.” 

Bev starts to walk off and the bell rings without her or Eddie being in their class. Some reason she laughs at this. She stares up at the ceiling like the bells going off right there. She hurries up and Eddie does to because if he’s late and his mother hears about it, well then, he’s gonna be in a lot of trouble and maybe the’ll leave and he’s not ready to leave this place behind yet.


	27. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward museum times.

# Awkward

Bev uses the horseshoe to bop Richie’s nose. He looks at her wrinkling his nose and she shrugs with it still in hand. They’re standing on a mezzanine at the museum looking below at other students observing art. On their level are parts of the armory, there’s swords and shields. None of which would blend in with Troll Market. For the human world only.

“Looks like you’re not a changeling,” Bev comments.

“Good to know.” Richie leans back into a banister along the mezzanine. He’s pretending to be about as nonchalant as possible, but instead is watching the Losers as they look at art. Ben is even with them. They’re cracking a joke about a weird looking animal in the painting before them. Earlier it’d been nudity that got them laughing.

Bev scowls at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Cat’s got my tongue,” replies Richie.

“That’s a bad joke even for you.” Bev gives him a little nudge before she starts to move around a corner.

But Richie stays put as he continues to watch the Losers. Bill never made it to school so it’s just Mike, Stan, and Eddie hanging out with Ben. They’re still making the same jokes or building onto whatever was said. There’s some pointing followed by _Well, that’s you_. Richie groans turning to say something to Bev but she’s up ahead.

Somebody from the museum appears to be chatting away with Bev about a suit of armor. She’s in a purple dress with long black hair. Richie moves over to them. And Bev points out his presence to the person who works at the museum.

“This is Rich,” Bev says and she signals to her apparent new friend. “This is Ms. Nomura. She says they have a fashion and textile exhibit here. We should go.”

“I’m a little busy.”

“Pining?” Bev rolls her eyes. “I’d still like to see the exhibit, if I’m allowed.”

“Of course you’re allowed,” replies Ms. Nomura with a huge smile. “It _is_ open to the public.”

Bev stares Richie down and hands him the horseshoe. Ms. Nomura watches and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s my Valentine for him,” Bev says.

“Because we are _so_ in love,” Richie adds as he takes it.

“How odd seeing that it’s not Valentine’s Day.” Ms. Nomura chuckles. “Here, I’ll show you the way, Bev.” And she leads Bev across the mezzanine and towards the steps. They’re heading downstairs and Richie follows as if he’s hitching a ride with them. When Ms. Nomura notices him trailing behind them, she offers him a grin. “Is there anything that might interest you?”

“No, I don’t have any interests.” Richie stops and looks into the room they’d been watching. “You two have fun, I’m gonna go look at some of the nudes on the wall in here.”

Ms. Nomura chokes on a laugh. She ends up walking away without comment with Bev to show the textiles off to her. And still Richie stands watching the Losers as they continue their ribbing. _Well, that-that’s you._ Until Ben sits on a bench in the middle of the room. Everybody else follows and Richie is left standing there staring at them like a weird stalker. Nobody notices and instead of being weird from afar, he decides to be weird up close by approaching the four pointing at one of the paintings.

“Art history 101 tip, if the woman is unnamed she’s a sex worker,” Richie says.

“That can’t be true!” protests Eddie and he looks at Stan and Mike. “Right? That can’t be true.”

Mike shrugs. “I think it might be true.”

Richie pushes his big black glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, Mags, well, she so happens to be a huge nerd for art.”

“Who?” Again Eddie’s looking in between everybody for some answers.

“His mom,” Stan comments. “And is she really?”

“Alright, you win. She _was_.” True story. Stress on the _was_ because for some reason when his dad walked right out of their lives, he took her love for art history with him. Seemed a little unfair. Richie looks at some of the paintings in the room unable to remember any of them from those days. The ones he remembered wore full of gore like a hawk eating the liver out of Prometheus and another one of people performing surgery inside a theater.

Behind him, Stan whispers a “Sorry.” Rather than say, _It’s ok_ , Richie just looks at him. The point is sent and Stan smiles.

“Want to see some real art?” Ben asks and laughs at his own joke. It’s a subtle one, easy to miss like he’s embarrassed he finds himself funny. Ben pulls a photograph from his bag. It’s some polaroid that he hands to Richie. “Took it last night. Talk about _X-Files_.”

A faded image of a goblin is in between the white framing. Richie stares at it unsure how to destroy it. It’s what he needs to do, right? Destroy it. There’s an actual image of a goblin and it’s pretty clear for comfort.

“Woooooow. . .” Richie holds onto it as he goes to brush some of his hair from his face. Too many curls escaped and it serves as a good excuse. As he does this, he drops the photo. Ben and Mike yell an _oh no_ and he leans forward pretending to be clumsy. Richie’s arms flail around as he goes to catch his balance, his feet slip all over the place and he rips the image in half. 

“What the fuck?” grumbles Stan and Eddie.

“Richie!” protests Ben.

“Ah shit.” Richie picks up the pieces from the ground and crumples it up. “Sorry about that. You have the negative right?”

“No, Richie. _No_ I don’t have a negative.”

Richie shrugs as he backs away from them, crumpled up ripped photo in hand. “Sorry, looked like a raccoon to me anyway.” And with such awkwardness, Richie sweeps away from the scene to flush the photo down a toilet or something. He’s scooting away hearing movement behind him. It’s not like the museum’s empty, but somebody is making a beeline right for him and he turns around to find Eddie almost colliding into him. “Can I help you with something?”

Eddie stares at him without a lot of personal space between them. “You were the one who wanted to talk to me earlier. Remember?”

“Oh. Right!” Richie holds the horseshoe up and pokes Eddie’s nose with it. “That’s it.”

“That’s. . .what?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to like boop your nose.” Richie hangs around way longer than he wanted with the whole needing to get rid of the photo thing. “See ya around, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Hey! Wait! Some of the guys and me are hanging out at Bill’s tonight, if you and Bev wanna stop by.”

Richie fixes his glasses again with a pretty big smile. “ _Perfect_.”

“Oh, um, ok then?” Eddie squints at him as if that’ll make the comment make more sense. It won’t. It’s not like Eddie knows a thing or two about the trolls in the world. Already Richie is walking away from him to look for Bev again and get rid of goblin evidence. “Feel free to talk to me about those um monster metaphors of yours.”

It almost gets Richie to stop walking but instead, he hurries up away. Embarrassed. Shit. He left his feelings out in the open for too many people. There weren’t enough jokes in those letters eithers. He thought he’d be dead by now as one does when a troll challenges them to a fight to the death. Even though a guard yells for him not to run, he runs heading towards the exhibit Bev hangs out in looking at some age-old fashion.


End file.
